


An Unwilling Arrangement

by Rachel_Lu



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Anchors, BAMF Rose Tyler, Bodyguard, Bodyguard Romance, Enemies, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Sharing a Room, TV News
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-01 11:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 38,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10188938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachel_Lu/pseuds/Rachel_Lu
Summary: Rose Tyler is a news anchor at a local TV Station, where she has been on the receiving end of many odd letters.  Once her mysterious admirer sends her pictures of her that he seems to have taken on her way to her parent's house and shouldn't have, her parents hire her a bodyguard, but he's not the kind, helpful bodyguard that she expected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I always get ahead of myself and can't quite stop writing. hope you enjoy this beginning! We'll meet John very soon.

 

“I only say it because I’m worried about you, Rosie.”

Rose looked up from where she was sitting at her desk, sifting through stories for the next news broadcast. She arched a brow at her friend, Jack, who stood before her, hands pressed to her desk.

“Excuse me?” She asked.

“You weren’t even listening, were you?” Jack sighed, carding a hand through his hair.  “Do you want me to explain it again?”

She smiled, a little sheepishly, and nodded to him. “If you wouldn’t mind,” she said, “Sorry.”

He set down several envelopes on her desk and she furrowed her brows. “What’s this?” She asked.

“More fanmail.”

“Oh. Okay. And?”  
He shook his head.  “The guy that keeps writing you letters, it’s another one from _him,”_ Jack said, tapping the top letter, which was in a large yellow envelope.  He seemed almost panicked, and it made Rose a little nervous.  “I’ve been talking to your parents, and we think you should-”

“He’s harmless, Jack,” Rose cut him off. “No worries, none at all.  He’s just some guy that likes to send me letters and call me pretty. Is that really such a bad thing?”

Jack sighed heavily.  “Just read it, please.  I want to hear what’s in it.  Your mum and dad and I think you should be getting a bodyguard.”

Rose snorted. “Are you kidding me?” She asked, arching her brows. “That’s ridiculous!  A bodyguard.”  
Another heavy, angry sigh.  “Rose, yes, a bodyguard.”

“Because someone has been writing my letters?  That’s… I can’t-” She laughed and picked up the envelope.  “Okay,” she said, “I’ll read it.  But only because I was going to read it in the first place.  I like fanmail.”

“I know you do.”  Jack sat down in the couch that was next to her desk and settled his chin in his hand, watching Rose cut open the letter with a tool on her desk.  She pulled it out of the envelope and cleared her throat dramatically, shooting Jack a look.

She unfolded the unassuming white paper and leaned over it, aware of Jack still staring at the back of her neck.  “‘Dear Rose,’” She began, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear so she could see a little better.”’I count the days until I can see you again, and every midmorning I fall in love with you all over again.  It is only a matter of time, my love.  It has been ages since we spoke last, I miss you greatly.  I know that you miss me, I can see the longing in you through the television screen.  And if I cannot have you, my love...’” She read it slowly, as though she couldn’t quite believe what she was reading.

Looking up, she saw Jack’s concerned face across from her.  She shrugged.  The last part of the letter was blacked out with hasty scribbling motions, and she couldn’t make it out.  She squinted at the paper and leaned closer to the paper.  She couldn’t see past the black ink of the felt tip pen that had been almost burned into the paper.  The end of it read ‘Ever yours, my love’ with no name at the bottom.

She handed it to Jack.  “Standard case weirdo,” she said breezily.  “No big deal. All his letters have some stuff scratched out at the bottom.”

“I want to know what it says,” Jack said firmly, staring at the blacked out part of the letter.  “It looks like someone who would do something like that and then _send_ it is crazed.”

Rose scratched her forehead, trying to figure out why Jack was all of a sudden getting on her case about this.  “Jack,” She said, “This guy has sent me loads of love letters, and not once have I felt threatened.  I’m a big girl, I can handle it,” She took the letter from him and was about to toss it in the bin when he stopped her.

“Let me have it,” Jack said, holding his hand out.

She relented, handing him the letter and the envelope it had come in. “I want to test the handwriting, I want to find out more about this person so we can keep an eye on you.”

“No, Jack,” she said firmly, ‘It’s fine.  Nothing’s going to happen.  You can keep the letter if you want, I have a couple of his other ones.”  She saw the anger and worry creasing his brow and she rolled her eyes. “It’s _fine.”_

“It’s not,” he folded up the letter and put it in the inside pocket of his jacket.  “Please consider getting a bodyguard?  I hate to think that this guy might be keeping close tabs on you.”

“I’m not going to let go of my freedom because you think a fan is creepy,” Rose said.  “You’re actually being completely unrealistic.  I don’t need someone following me around because you’re worried.  We’re a _news station,_ Jack.  I’m safe here.”

“You’re safe here, yeah,” Jack agreed, leaning forward. “What about tomorrow, when you get your coffee?  What about when you go home tonight?  Rose, please consider thinking clearly about this.  
“I am.” She flipped through a couple of other papers, studiously ignoring her co worker for several minutes.  He stared at her though, not dropping the subject.  She slammed down her list of stories and glared at him.  “Do you need something else?”

“You’re having dinner with your family tonight, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good thing I called your mum about all this, then.”

“Jack _Harkness,_ why would you do that?” She asked, feeling her temper rise.

He carded his hands through his hair.  “Rose, please just talk to them. They’re worried too, and they agree with me.  You should consider a bodyguard."

  
“Don’t need one, Jack, we’ve been over that.” 

“I know you’re stubborn, but just listen,” Jack urged, “You’re the Vitex heiress on top of being a very successful news anchor.  And you’re beautiful, Rose.  We’re all right to worry about you, especially when you get cryptic notes like this.”

She had to give in, at least a little bit, because Jack was really almost more stubborn than her. Finally, she nodded. “Fine,” she said, “I’ll talk to them about it, but that doesn’t mean that I’m going to agree with it, do you understand me?”

He breathed out a sigh of relief.  “Thank you, Rose.”  
“Mm hm,” she hummed at him and crossed her legs, going back to her paperwork.

Sensing that this was the only thing that was going to come out of the conversation, Jack patted the desk once and stood up before leaving the office, shutting the door behind him.  Rose watched him go and shook her head.  He was her friend, true, but she wished he’d stay out of her business. It was just a few lousy letters, really.  And love letters at that.  She didn’t feel threatened at all, and didn't think she needed someone to look out for her besides herself.

Her parents, on the other hand, might have another idea.

******

 

She pulled into the driveway of the Tyler mansion in her little candy red car, dreading the moment.  There was a reason she had moved into her own flat, and her mother’s overbearing nature was part of it.  Her father was quite passive, and she hoped he would play that card tonight if her mum got on her case about the whole bodyguard thing.

Locking her car and tucking her hair behind her ear before heading towards the giant front doors.  She knocked heavily before just deciding to just go in. She knew no one would hear her, but she had a key.  She opened the door and stepped inside, tucking her keys into her purse.

“Mum?  I’m here!”

She heard tiny feet thundering down the stairs and her little brother slammed into her legs.  She patted his blondeish-red head.

“Hi, Tony.”

“Rose!”

Her little brother was about four, not old enough to understand anything she was going to talk about during dinner with their parents, but old enough to understand that he really liked spaghetti and that was what he was having for dinner while they had a chicken dinner that was no doubt going to be more extravagant than necessary.

Jackie and Pete came down the stairs next, and both of them embraced their daughter.

“I’m so glad you came tonight, sweetheart,” Jackie said, patting her daughter’s cheek. “We’ve got dinner all ready!”

Rose scooped Tony up and carried him to the dining room as she chatted aimlessly with her parents about her job. They always seemed interested, but she had a feeling that they were disappointed she wasn’t working with Vitex full time.

They settled down at the table and the servants greeted Rose as they brought the food in to them.  Yep, Rose had been right, it was seasoned and cooked to perfection chicken, the absolute greenest green beans she had ever seen, and gourmet potato skins.

She smiled tightly and shoved her napkin into her lap.  She almost wished she could sit at home with a newspaper full of chips and pretend that her family was _normal._ As she had expected, it didn't take them long before Jackie got right to the meat of the problem that Jack had presented to her.

“Rose, I’m worried for your safety.”

Rose pursed her lips. “I thought you were gonna say something like that.”  
Pete rubbed his forehead with his pointer finger and thumb, looking rather exasperated.  “You know, Jacks, we probably could’ve been a bit more subtle about all this.”

“It’s important!” Jackie protested.

Tony shoveled spaghetti in his mouth.  “What, mum?” He asked, kicking his feet in his booster chair.  Rose shot her mother a look.

“Nothing,” Rose said before anyone else could say anything. “You don’t really need to worry about it, Tony. Everything is fine.

  
Tony went back to his spaghetti and didn’t seem to hear them anymore. 

“Jack called us on your behalf, he said that he was very worried about you, and some strange fan mail that you’ve been getting,” Pete explained calmly, ‘We just wanted to talk to you about-”  
“The bodyguard, I know,” Rose said, cutting into her chicken. “And the answer is no.”

“What?” Jackie asked, furrowing her brows at her daughter.

Rose lifted her head. “I don’t need the bodyguard. It’s just some sad little love letters. It’s nothing to be concerned about, really.  Don’t worry about it."

  
Pete rubbed his eye with two fingers. “Sweetheart, we’re your parents, it’s our job to worry about you, and so we’re going to do that.” 

“Well, you can worry, but you don’t need to hire a bodyguard,” Rose replied.

“We have one on standby,” Pete said, “Just in case you change your mind.  But I think you should consider it, at the very least.  Even if not right now,” he watched her carefully. “Please, Rose?”

  
“I don’t need it,” Rose said softly, “I’ve been doing my job for a long time, and I’m very good at it.  I don’t ant you to think that I’m not going to just throw away my freedom because someone’s worried about a fan.  And I told Jack that, too.  So maybe we should just drop it for now, alright?”

Jackie seemed to realize they were beat, and she crossed her arms and settled back in her chair. “Fine,” She said firmly, “But you’ll come to us if more happens?”

“Yes,” Rose said. “I promise.”

The rest of the dinner went out without incident, and she went back to her flat, only stewing a little.  She was sick of everyone butting into her business, and she didn’t like the idea that Jack thought it was so important that she be ‘safe’ even though she was fine.  

That night she was extra careful to lock her doors and windows, though, and she crawled into bed in her flannel pajamas.  She fell asleep quickly and slept very soundly until morning

  
But that morning was going to change a lot of things for Rose Tyler.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow!!! I'm so glad the first chapter of this received so much love!!! Thank you guys!

When she got to work, she went right to the desk she was going to broadcast from with Martha.  She went through a couple of the stories as Martha came back and sat down next to her on her own red swiveling chair.

“Hey,” she said cheerfully, setting her coffee on the desk.

“Good morning,” Rose greeted her friend. She was about to open her mouth to say something along the lines of ‘How are you, Martha?’ before Jack burst in and threw another thick orange envelope on the desk.  He settled his hands on his hips and glared at Rose.

“Are you alright?” Rose asked.

Jack gestured to the envelope.  “You need to open that.”

“Did you already open it?” She asked, her voice raising, “You’re not supposed to touch other people’s mail!”

Jack pointed at the envelope again, violently, shaking his finger at it.  “I can feel what’s in it without opening it, Rose, you need to open it.”

Martha’s brows furrowed in worry.  “What’s going on?” She asked.

“What’s going on?” Jack laughed, “What’s going on is Rose is putting her life in danger by letting some creep send her letters and now it’s gotten serious.”

Rose was a little worried by Jack’s response.  He didn’t get worked up about too many things. He got concerned, caring, but never worked up.  He never raised his voice.  She felt her hand shake a little as she picked up the envelope and tore it open.  

She dumped the contents of the envelope onto the desk and she felt a cold sweat break over her body.  Along with another letter, out fell two polaroid pictures and two digitally printed ones.  All four were of her from last night, tucking her hair behind her ear, getting out of her car, going up to her parents’ doorstep, and coming back out later that night.  

“Oh, my God,” She dropped the pictures and felt as though she was going to be sick. “Oh, my God.”

“What does the letter say?” Martha asked slowly, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Rose picked up the letter and unfolded it slowly.  She breathed out a slow sigh, trying to get a hold of her breathing again.  “‘My dearest Rose,’” She began slowly, “‘It’s been a long time since I have been able to find you.  You looked beautiful last night.  You won’t see me until I am ready for you to’-” Rose started dry heaving, pressing her hand to her stomach. Martha rushed to her side and pulled her upright, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and holding her still.

“Rose, it’s alright, it’s gonna be okay.”

“He followed me.”

Jack and Martha exchanged a look.  It was not the first time Rose had been followed, as she was the Vitex heiress, but this was more than paparazzi: This was a stalker, and Rose seemed to finally understand that.  Martha chanced a look at her and then took the letter from her clenching fingers.

“Read it,” Rose rasped out, “I need to know what it says.”

Martha read the rest of it slowly. “‘You won’t see me until I am ready for you to do so.  When you do see me again, you will not be able to forget me, or leave me.  I love you forever my Rose, and I will-’ The rest of it is scratched out in black,” Martha said.

“Oh, my God,” Rose said, feeling a little more calm now that she had the reassurance of Martha reading it instead of her.

“Rose?” Jack said softly, “You need to-”

“Call the bodyguard in.”  Rose said stiffly, lacing her fingers together and trying to get herself under control. “I do need a bodyguard.  I do.  I’m not safe.”

Martha rubbed Rose’s shoulder reassuringly.  “Okay, Jack?”

Jack nodded. “Yes, of course, Rose. I’ll call your parents right away. Can you do the broadcast or should I call Lynda in?”

Rose sat up and took a long breath.  “No, I can do it,” she said.  She’d never missed a broadcast, and she wasn’t about to start now. “I can do it.”  She smiled a little shakily at Martha.

Jack was not about to take Rose’s change of heart lightly. He knew that she had to be very afraid to change her mind like this, and it made him very nervous.  If Rose got upset, that was almost a one hundred percent guarantee that there was danger in the

air.  

Of course, he sensed danger as well, but this wasn’t the sort of instincts that he usually had a habit of following.

“Are you sure, Rose?” Martha asked.  “I don’t want you to push yourself too hard.  This is shocking news.”

Rose shook her head.  “I can do it.”  She seemed a little more color in her cheeks, but her eyes seemed almost vacant.

“I’ll give them a call,” Jack repeated. “Please, Rose, if you don’t feel well. Beg off during a commercial break if you need to.”

He took the envelope with the pictures and letter and shoved it all in. “I’m giving this to your new bodyguard, but I think we’ve touched it all too much for any sort of prints to get taken from it..  Everything is going to be fine, Rose, I promise.”  

They did the broadcast, and Rose was quite good at hiding her true feelings so that she could be a proper new anchor. She had a wide smile on her face the whole time, and was able to banter with Martha as well.  The stories they did were entertainment, that was their segment in the show, so luckily, doom and gloom was never on the agenda. And because most people knew her as the Vitex heiress, they liked it that way.

And to be honest, Rose did too.  She liked to think about the tougher stuff in life, and listened to the news stories later in the day, but she wasn’t sure she would ever be one to be able to talk about them.  

As she was wrapping up her last story, she saw a man standing next to Jack in front of her, behind the monitors and cameras.  He must be her new bodyguard.

She took the time to examine him as Martha took over.  He was lanky, downright _long,_ a bit taller than Jack, with scruffy dark hair that stuck out at all sorts of odd angles.  His eyes were dark as well, and his hands were shoved in the pockets of a black pair of jeans.  He wore a blue oxford that was rolled up to his elbows and a swirly brown tie.  It was casual, but it was clear that he was put together with some sort of effort.  

After the broadcast was over, she shuffled her papers into a folder and went over to Jack.

“This is your bodyguard,” Jack said with a flourish. “And with that, I’ve got work to do.” he offered Rose a reassuring smile that she returned before disappearing from the studio.

“Hello,” Rose said, extending her hand. “Rose Tyler.”

The man smiled and shook her hand firmly.  “John Smith, personal bodyguard. I used to be a part of the police force.”

“How so?”

“I was a detective.”

She released his hand and let hers fall to her side.  “Sounds promising.  I think Jack was supposed to tell you-”

John cut her off. “Your mother expects me to sleep outside your flat at night, so that no one can get in without getting through me. I am to stay in the studio while you are on the air, and stay in your office with you while you work up there.  Long story short, Rose Tyler, I’m your new best friend.”

She didn't like the idea of being with someone twenty four seven, but she also realized that she didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.  She needed to be protected, and she was done being stupid.  She did have one complaint.

“I’m not having you sleep outside my flat.  You’re gonna stay on the pullout couch _inside_ my flat.”

“And if someone bursts through your window, Miss Tyler?”

She snorted, “Then you’d hear it too.”

He seemed to let it go, for the time being, at least.  “Well, then, we shall begin now, of my journeys in following you wherever you may go.”

“I’m just headed up to my office.”

“Alright then.”

He shoved his hands back in his pockets and followed her to the lift.  She was already stiffening at his behavior, how cold and distant he was. Maybe that was his job but he was almost condescending, and it was annoying her.  

They didn’t speak when they first got in the elevator, but Rose heard him shuffling about and pulling something from his pockets.  She turned and looked over her shoulder to see him holding all the envelopes from her secret admirer.  She furrowed her brows.

“How did you get all those in your pocket?”

He looked up from the envelopes at her, “I’m very good at space management,” he said simply.  She frowned and exited the lift to go to her office.

“I don’t want to bore you at all,” she said, “But I do have some paperwork to get done,” she sat at her desk and crossed her legs as she began sifting through some papers.

“I have a couple questions, first,” John said, sitting on the couch beside her desk. “Why didn’t you have someone hire me before?”

She raised her eyebrows, “I didn’t think that I needed to.”

He tutted at her and looked over the letters. “Miss Tyler, you have been in danger for a very long time.”

She swallowed hard and shook her head.  “No, he just now sent me those pictures from last night.  That’s the furthest it’s gone.”

John raised his eyebrows at her.  “Oh, come, now, Miss Tyler.  Are you naive enough to believe that he has only taken pictures of you once?”

She froze, both in anger and surprise. That wasn’t even a thought that had crossed her mind, that something might have been going on for longer.  She furrowed her brows at him in confusion.  “I… Then why would he send these ones to me?” She asked.

He shrugged. “That one, I don’t know,” He said simply, “But I’m gonna keep an eye out for cameras from now on, and-” he trailed off and looked at the massive window that covered floor to window behind her desk.

“What?” Rose asked, looking over her shoulder and back at him.

“You need to get curtains.”

“What?”

“You need to get curtains. Right now, anyone and everyone could just look right up into your window.  Tonight, we’re getting curtains for your office.”

Her jaw dropped.  She was disliking this (frankly gorgeous) man less and less.  “You can’t tell me what to do, Mr. Smith,” she said curtly.  “I like looking outside, and I’m on the sixteenth floor.  No one is looking at me.”

“Except the man who took these pictures of you,” John snapped. “I think you need to take some precautionary measures.   _Starting_ with _curtains._ Your parents and coworkers have trusted me with your life, Miss Tyler.  I need you to listen to me, for your own safety.”

“You think curtains are gonna keep me safe?”

“It won’t hurt,” he snapped. “They can be sheer. We just need to make sure no one can see you from the ground.  Please.”  The last word was harsh and sharp, like he was having trouble keeping his cool already.

“You really think that’ll help?” She asked dubiously.

“I think it’ll keep you safer,” he stood and walked behind her to the window.  She turned in her chair and looked at him as he peered out the window.  

“Yeah,” he said, “We’re getting curtains.”

“Well, you’re coming home with me, so my guess is I’m driving,” Rose said, crossing her arms.

“That’s correct, I am at your beck and call from now on, and I can’t be separate from you, as it is not safe.”  He shrugged a shoulder.  “But I am going to have to insist on the curtains, Miss Tyler.  My job is to keep you safe, and that’s what I’m going to do.”She sniffed and turned around again, facing her desk. “Don’t expect me to give up everything because you tell me to.  But if the curtains still let light in, then I guess I’ll allow it.”

“We just need to keep people from seeing in here,” John replied, “So yes, they can be sheer, like I said.”

“Have a seat,” Rose said stiffly.  “I have lots of work to do before we can leave.”

  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

It was hours later before they left, John trailing behind Rose out of the office and to the car lot so she could get her car.  John looked it over before he got into the passenger’s side.  He looked over at Rose with a skeptical expression.

“Do you think your car could be part of the reason you are so easy to locate?” John asked nonchalantly, in a way that made her blood boil again.  God, he was annoying.  She wasn’t sure if she would be able to put up with him for long enough to keep herself alive. 

She shot him a look.  “I like my car.” She said firmly, “And it’s not that that gives me away. It’s the fact that I’m the Vitex heiress and that I have been on telly every morning for almost four years. My car isn’t gonna change either of those things.”   
“Fair enough,” he said, in a blase sort of way.

She turned to him before starting to car. “Do you plan to be like this for your whole employment?” She asked.

He blinked and turned to face her as well. “What do you mean, ‘do I plan to be like this’? What is this?”

  
“ _ This  _ Is you being impossible and rude.  Are you always like this?”

“Not usually.  Most people are-”

  
“Fine with you being an absolute arse?  Well, I’m not, so that can stop right away,” she said, turning back to face her windshield and stared her car.  

He regarded her carefully for another few moments, not knowing what to say.  Finally, a slow smile crept across his face.  “Miss Tyler, I think our problem will lie in the fact that we are far too similar, and that is all. We’re both rather stubborn, as you were stubborn merely to hire me!”  He shook his head.  “For all intents and purposes, we should be getting along.” 

“Well, we aren’t,” she snapped.

“Don’t forget, we need to get curtains,” he said, piping up.

She clenched her jaw. “I haven’t forgotten.” she said through gritted teeth. “We’ll go get your stupid curtains.”

“Actually,” he said, “They’re your stupid curtains.”

He went with her into the store because he said he needed to protect her in case she was being followed.  Even though she wanted to be  _ left alone,  _ just for a moment.  She stalked into the store, to the home section, and gestured to the literal wall of curtains.

“Go ahead, pick some,” she said, crossing her arms.

“They’re for your office, Miss Tyler.”   
  
“Yeah, well you’re the one that sits on the couch, so you’re gonna have to be the one that looks at them,” She said, “As long as I see through them, I don’t care.”   
He huffed under his breath in an irritated way and sifted through a few options before grabbing one and handing it to her.  She looked them over and turned around without even looking at him, heading to the front counter.  To her surprise, he pressed his hand to her lower back to lead her towards the checkout. She practically leapt away from him.  

“What do you think you’re doing?” She hissed at him.

He raised his eyebrows at her. “You realize, of course, that the most essential thing is making the impression that I’m strong enough to get rid of anyone that might try to hurt you.  Laying physical claim on you, even if not in a romantic way, can get rid of unwanted attention.”

“Oi, well, there are some attentions that a girl wants.”

“You can’t have them,” John said, “Anyone that tries to get close to you could be a threat, and I am absolutely not willing to risk that, not at all,” he said.

She jolted.  She hadn’t even thought about that.  The fact that someone might try to date her and then literally kill her.  How would she even date, though, when John was going to be with her all the time. It would be uncomfortable at the very least, and she wasn’t sure she wanted any of that.  

Huffing out an angry sigh, she went the rest of the way to the counter.  The cashier smiled at them and she noticed that John smiled back perhaps a bit too widely. She felt her shoulders creep up towards her neck as she started to get more irritated.

“Hello,” the cashier directed all her attention to John.

“Hello,” John replied, “This is a lovely store, I’m surprised I haven’t been here before.”

“Oh, well, we do our best to keep up with it,” the cashier preened a little.  “Is this all for the two of you today?”

Rose felt a little bitter, since that was the only time the cashier had addressed the woman who had been clearly buying the product.

  
It didn't take them long to pay and get back out to the car, and when they did, Rose slammed the car door, making John jump in his seat. 

“Whoa,” he said, “What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” She asked, her voice raised, “Not moments after you telling me that I can’t date you go off and flirt with the cashier woman. How do I know you’re not going to get distracted and let me get hurt?” She asked.

John scowled at her. “I’m not going to let you get hurt, Rose. Nothing harmful happened in there.”   
“Not this time,” Rose ran her hand through her hair, which was becoming more and more messed up with each passing hour.  “Next time, though, it might be something else.  I might get attacked, and you’re too busy coming onto someone that you don’t notice.”

“Oi, I don’t make a habit of coming onto anyone, thank you very much,” John snapped.  “Before you think so lowly of me, you should try considering the fact that I’m just friendly.”

  
Rose let out a harsh laugh. “I’ll believe that when I see it,” she said in a tone that was scathing and would have burned if they had been in any sort of relationship.

He fell silent for a few moments. “You haven’t eaten since this morning,” he said softly, “We should fetch something.”

“I’m going to order in,” she said,  “There’s a chippy up the road that will deliver to my door, we’ll get something from there.” 

She started up the car and they were silent the whole way back to her flat.  There was a bit of anger still buzzing in the air and she had an idea that it was going to stay for a very long time, as though were both still irritated.  

He was right, she realized, they were too similar.  They would probably get along if his job wasn’t to tell her what to do with her life, even if it was to keep her safe.  She wanted to be safe, of course, and alive, but she also wanted to live.  She didn’t feel like she would be doing much living in the coming weeks, and that bothered her. 

She parked and got out of the car without a word.  “Where’s all your stuff?” She asked him.

“Your father said he would bring it tonight,” John said, his voice now permanently ice cold. 

“Okay,” Rose said, unlocking her flat (which was rather nice, almost posh) and threw her keys in the little bowl on the table by the door.  John followed her and shut and locked the door behind them. 

Rose set her new curtains on the table by the keys as well, just so she wouldn’t forget them when she was about to go in tomorrow. Not that John would let her forget them, she reminded herself bitterly. 

He was ridiculous. 

He kicked his shoes off and set them by her door. Then, to her surprise, he pulled out a handgun from the ankle of his trousers and set it on the table.

Rose jumped. “What are you doing with that?” She demanded.

He laughed. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am!”

“Rose, I don’t like guns any more than anyone else likes guns,” he said, “But the only reason I carry is to keep you safe, now, do you understand that?”  He pointed at the gun and advanced on her.  “You will not die under my watch, or by my hands.” He was close to her now, too close.  “Do you understand me?”

She swallowed hard.  “You… And you expect me to just let you sleep outside my flat?”

“Yes.”  She could feel his breath on her face.

“No, you’re sleeping on the pullout couch,” She said, “That’s final.”

“Your mother wanted-”

“Sod what my mother wanted. You won’t get good sleep on concrete, and how are you supposed to protect me without proper rest?”  She crossed her arms, accidentally brushing his chest in the process.  

He smiled again, a smile that made her blood run equally cold and hot.  “Are you sure that’s what you think? You seem to care an awful lot.”

“I value my own life, Mr. Smith, and I won’t be dying just because your responses are on the sluggish side.”

“I have never been sluggish in my life,” he told her.  

“Mm, I’m sure you haven’t been,” she said in a sarcastic tone, “But the point still stands.” 

  
He laughed, a snide and harsh sound, and advanced upon her, forcing her to back up until she hit the wall next to the entryway to her kitchen.  He wasn’t touching her, just standing close, and he said, in a low tone, “Miss Tyler, I have slept in cars on stings, I have slept on the floors of department stores.  I have slept lots of uncomfortable places.  Your concrete flat entryway is hardly a problem.”

“You’re under my employment now, not my mother’s,” she said lowly, tilting her chin up in defiance. “You will do as I say.  You will sleep on this couch, and not outside.  I’m not asking you, Mr. Smith, I’m telling you.”

His eyebrows shot into his hairline in surprise. “Really?” He nearly purred. “You’re telling me?”

“Yes,” Rose said firmly.  “Yes, I am telling you. You’d better listen to me.”

Instead, he took another step closer. “Or what, Miss Tyler?”

“Or, when I get hurt because you’ve been shirking your duties, my blood will be on your hands.”

He opened his mouth to speak again, and was surprised when the doorbell rang.  John stepped smoothly away from her, as though he was aware that he was far too close.  He straightened his tie. “I’ll get it,” he said, and unlocked and answered the door to reveal Rose’s father. 

“Mr. Smith,” Pete said as John stepped aside to allow the older man in.

“Mr. Tyler,” John replied, shaking his hand.  “Is that my suitcase outside?” 

“Yes, it is,” Pete said, and John nodded, ducking out to grab the large bag, with a smaller duffle on top of it.  He came in and set them in the living room before coming back and shutting and locking the door again. 

“Thank you very much,” John said, “For bringing my things.’

Rose furrowed her brows. “That’s all you have?” Rose asked. 

“I’m a simple man,” John said.  

Pete looked over at the door. “Please, John, you didn’t need to lock the door.  I’m only going to be here for a moment.” He turned to Rose. “Everything alright here?” Heasked. 

“Yeah,” Rose replied, “All good.”

“Very good,” Pete said, nodding.  He smiled a little. “I know that you didn't want this, Rose, but I need you to know that I think it’s going to be good for you. I worry less, now, I was incredibly-”

“No worries, Mr. Tyler, your daughter is in good hands here,” John said, shoving his hands in his pockets again. Rose wondered if that was some sort of nervous tick that he had. 

Pete smiled. “Good,” he said.  “She’s my only daughter, I don’t fancy losing her to some crazed maniac.” He said it like he was being cheerful, but his tone had ‘worried parent’ written all over it.  

He shook John’s hand and kissed Rose on the cheek before leaving the flat with a goodbye.  Rose went to the kitchen as John locked up for the third time and picked up the phone.  She called in for chips as she watched John lug his bags next to the couch. 

“I don’t have a guest room,” She said as she hung up, “But I can bring out something for you to put your things in.”

“That would be nice. Thank you.”

She was surprised that he had just been nice to her, but maybe it was just the aftereffects of seeing her father.  He was a respectable man, and maybe he was just now realizing that she, too, was to be respected. 

“I ordered us chips. You can lock down the flat or whatever it is that you do while you’re here,” she said, waving a dismissive hand at him. He scowled at her a little but actually said nothing in response, though she thought she heard him mumbling something under his breath as he walked about.  

She watched him from the kitchen as he unpacked the duffle, which was mostly toiletries and soaps and things. 

“Those can go in the bathroom,” She told him.  He looked up at her. 

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” the words by themselves were nice, but he said them with an edge that told her her friendliness was not exactly welcome. 

She lifted a shoulder.  “Not intruding. I’ve hired you, remember?”

“No, Miss Tyler, you’re paying me with daddy’s money,” he said shortly.

“You’re getting paid,” she replied, ignoring the anger that he was stroking in her chest.  “Let’s leave it at that.”

“As you wish.”

She had an extra set of drawers, because her mother had bought her two when she’d moved in, thinking there was less closet space then there actually was.  It was small enough that she could carry it herself, and she did so, setting it down next to the couch that he was using.  He looked up at her and nodded his thanks. 

It seemed that things were just going to be strained between them, and she couldn’t even blame one person for it.  She wasn’t sure if she was at fault, or he was. What she did know was that she was certain there was no way of salvaging a friendship from it.

And that was fine. She didn't need a best mate, she needed someone to protect her. 

“Cuppa?” She asked him.

“Please.”

“How do you take it?”

“Three sugars.”

“ _ Three?” _

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

The tone was back. She rolled her eyes. “You must be a really wired man.”

“I’m wired to keep awake. You’ll thank me for it someday, I’m sure,” he said, rubbing his nose and then standing up. “I’ll unpack while you do that.”

“Okay,” Rose turned back to the kitchen and the both of them went about their tasks in silence.  The only thing that brought them back to themselves was the ringing of the doorbell.   
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

The man at the door was just the man with the chips, who Rose knew pretty well.  John was still odd about it though, making sure to stand right over Rose’s shoulder as she paid the man.  He practically breathed down her neck while she interacted with the man, making her feel a little uncomfortable.

“Nice to see you again, Adam,” She said to him, handing him his money with a little extra in for the tip.

“Always a pleasure to see you, Rose,” he replied in a banter-y sort of way, insinuating that they saw each other very often because of her need for chips.  

She giggled and took the bag from him. “See you again.”

“See you.”  He was down the stairs before she even had the door shut, indicating, in his own way, that he had somewhere else to be and wasn’t necessarily willing to stay for much longer.  That didn’t offend Rose in the slightest.

After he left John reached past Rose and locked the door again, very quickly.  He watched the man drive away in his car from his view out the living room window.    


“How well do you know that man, Miss Tyler?” He asked calmly, hands wedged firmly in his pockets.  She wondered if that was a nervous thing.

Rose gave him a funny look.  “As well as can be expected, from how we know each other.  He’s just a delivery boy, that’s all.”

John’s mouth tightened and he shook his head. “From now on, Miss Tyler, no one is  _ just  _ anything.  Everyone is a suspect for those letters.”

She felt her jaw drop at him, not sure quite what to say to that. Adam had been delivering to her house for a pretty long time.  She opened and closed her mouth before shaking her head and walking past him to her dining room table.  She opened the bag and settled one smaller bag of chips on either side of the table. She felt John next to her and ignored him until he spoke. 

“Are you angry with me now?” He asked. 

“No,” Rose bit out, “But I think you’re a little too suspicious for your own good, Mr. Smith.  This man just delivers my chips, he has a very nice girlfriend, and they have a son.”

John blinked. “So you know him very well?”

“Not  _ very well,  _ but I see him regularly, and I went to highschool with him,” Rose crossed her arms.  “He did really well in all his classes, never had a bad mark except the one tiny lab fire, and that was because he had absolutely no idea what he was doing.  If I’m going to respect your judgement, you’re going to have to learn to try and respect mine, at least a little bit,” She let her eyes flick between his.  

He shook his head.  “Excuse me, Miss Tyler, but you are not the most qualified to be telling me what to do in this situation.”

“I’m not telling you what to do,” she replied, “What I am doing is telling you to give people the benefit of the doubt.”  She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and looked back up at him.  “Not all people are bad, and you can’t drive people away from me.”

“I’m not,” he said firmly, “I’m protecting you, if you haven’t noticed.  I don’t know what this man is up to, and neither do you, not really.  You only know what he’s told you, which may or may not be true.”

She furrowed her brows at him.  “Do you trust me?”

“What?”

“Do you trust  _ me,  _ Mr. Smith?”

John seemed surprised by this, as he didn’t respond right away.  “That’s hardly the purpose of our conversation.”

“Then you won’t mind answering.”

“I was taught not to trust anyone.”

“Well, seeing as you’ll be getting your paychecks from my family, you might want to learn how to,” she cocked a brow at him and then sat down on her side of the table, opening her bag of chips.  She looked up at him, seeing him still staring at her.  “Have a seat,” she told him, “You haven’t had anything to eat either.”

He sat down across from her, seeming a bit uncertain.  He seemed to watch her carefully, like he expected her to do something that she wasn’t supposed to.  She simply began eating and sipped her tea, thinking, quite smugly, that she had gotten the better of him. 

She had to acknowledge, though, that if all they did was try to best each other, then both of them were going to get tired very quickly.  Luckily, she wouldn’t have to talk to him  _ all  _ during work.  While she was in her office, they wouldn’t have to speak.  Hopefully, at least. Well, she wouldn’t be doing too much to initiate conversation with him, at any rate.  No, she thought, glancing at him, he was not a man for conversation and that was going to have to be alright with her.   


He seemed grumpy as they ate, not looking at her, just eating and pretending she wasn’t in the room. 

“Vinegar?” She asked politely, getting to her feet to fetch some for herself.  He watched her go, his expression schooled and cool as he watched her.  

“No, that’s alright.”  he said slowly.   
“So first you say you don’t trust me and now you’re saying you eat your chips bland?” Rose tutted and shook her head.  “Shame on you.”

“Are you trying to be nice to me now?  Or  _ friendly? _ ” John snapped, “Because as far as I can tell, you just pity me, or you want me to trust you, and I don’t think I want that.”

“You don’t want to trust me?” Rose put her hands on her hips, any attempt at being nice to him easily and swiftly running out of her bones.  “Really?”

He let out a mirthless laugh and crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair.  He was sitting facing the kitchen, and so he could hear her and see her quite clearly.  “Of course I don’t want to trust you.  You just employ me, I don’t need you to be my  _ friend.” _

“Course not!” She shouted, feeling her temper rise.  She wasn’t used to rejection, and the fact that he was doing so so vehemently made her boil.  How was she supposed to live with someone who wanted so badly to hate her?  It was doing terrible things to her ego.  So, her only reply that she could manage was a deathly sarcastic,  “Why would you need to be on good terms with the person you’re protecting?”

The sound that came out of him was both a snort and a grunt and she was almost insulted by it.  He leaned his head back, looking down his nose at her even as she stood above him.  “Because it’s good to be detached, Miss Tyler.  In my line of work, the second you become friends with a victim or someone involved in a case, things tend to go south at the speed of light. So, because of that, I plan to be detached from you.”

It wasn’t as though she was planning on getting his unwavering attention or anything of that sort, but the fact of the matter was that he was being  _ rude.   _ Not even being able to be attached to her because he wanted to remain objective in a case where  _ she  _ was in danger?  Insulting, at best, and if there was one thing Rose Tyler did not stand for, it was insults.  She stalked back to the table and shoved the rest of her chips in the bag.  

“Well then, if you’re feeling so  _ urgent  _ to keep away from me, then you can eat alone.”  She went down the hallway to her room then, slamming the door behind her.  

Still fuming, she broke out her food again on her desk, some of her papers to the side.  She went to work on them while she ate, calming herself down as she worked.  She wondered if it was too late to get her bodyguard switched. She considered it for a moment, considering calling up her dad, but that was a bit too far. She wasn’t going to be known as the heiress who shuffled through bodyguards because she didn't like them. That would be a whole story that the paparazzi would be all too willing to tell.     


She could hear him shuffling around out in her main area, presumably packing away his things in the drawers she had given to him.  She listened to him, as she heard him go into the bathroom, and heard the shower turn on. About ten minutes later, the shower turned off and she heard him go back out into the living room.

After another few minutes of letting herself getting fired up a little more, she got up and took her own shower and binned her chip bag.  After brushing her teeth and pulling her hair into a bun, she came out of the bathroom to see John opening the door to the front of her flat.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Outside.  To sleep.” 

Rose walked to the door and jerked him back from it, slamming and locking the door.  He was so shocked that he didn’t try to open it again, just watched her as she walked to her couch and threw the couch cushions off of it. She pushed her coffee table out of the way and pulled out the couch so it became a bed.  She then walked to her hall closet and threw two quilts and two pillows on it.  

“Goodnight, Mr. Smith,” she said firmly.

He was gaping at her, and he abruptly snapped his mouth closed.  “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“No.  You’ve been cruel and weird all night, the least you can do is do what I tell you.  I’d feel safer if you were inside.” She crossed her arms.  It was the truth, at least.  She wouldn’t feel safe with her bodyguard  _ outside  _ the house.

He slowly checked the lock on the door and walked back to the couch.  She still stood still, and he glared at her. “Are you really going to watch me get into bed, then?”

“Wanna make sure you’re in it,” She said. 

He scowled at her, but did as he was told, climbing onto the couch bed and pulling the covers around him.  “This is very comfortable,” he grumbled. 

“I know,” she preened. “Goodnight, Mr. Smith.” She set her hands on her hips.  “You’ll be up at five o’ clock sharp.  We leave at six.”

He blinked, like he had been expecting her to leave him alone after this. “Alright then,” He said, “Better get my rest in now.”

“And Mr. Smith?”

Exasperated now, “Yes, Miss Tyler?”

“I know you think I’m stupid, but I know when my front door has been opened. If you try and go sleep outside, I’ll know about it.”

His face twisted into an expression she couldn’t name. It was almost as though he seemed conflicted, but that wasn’t right either. Still though, he looked at her, searching her from his perch against the pillows and blankets she had given him.

“I never said you were stupid,” he said firmly.

“We all think things that we don’t say.”  She turned the hall light off, bathing them in mostly darkness.  He took the hint and reached over to turn out the light that was next to him on the end table.  As she went back to her room she heard him rustling around a bit, getting comfortable.  

His words, everything he had said about her safety over the course of the day, made her nervous, even though she knew very well that not every scenario he put forward was one that was going to happen. It was enough to make her worry, so she double and triple checked the locks on her window before drawing the blinds just a bit tighter, even though she wasn’t sure that was even possible.  

Once she felt secure, she shut the door to her room, but left it unlocked, in case someone  _ was  _ going to come in through her window that night. She wanted to be able to be protected, if that came to be the case. 

Breathing out a few deep, cleansing sighs, she went to her bed and crawled under the fluffy duvet, trying not to think about what the next few weeks were going to hold. She had a feeling she’d been foolish to wait this long before hiring John.  

Not that she thought she was in trouble, necessarily, but it would’ve been nice to feel safe a little earlier.  She scrubbed her hands over her face and turned her light off, burrowing under the covers.  

Rose Tyler had grown very good at lying to herself.  And the lie she told herself now was that things were absolutely fine. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please review?

The night passed without incident, which Rose had not necessarily expected.  After the day she’d had, she expected someone to break down her door and try to kidnap her.  Fortunately, that didn’t happen, and she got dressed and got ready in the bathroom before coming out into her living area.

John was already awake, tying his shoes and sitting on the edge of the couch, as he had put the bed back together, quilts folded and on the cushions, pillows on top.  Everything was sorted and tidy, and she watched him for a moment as he finished lacing up.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he did an odd little tap on the ground with the sole of his foot, as though his shoe hadn’t fit properly until he did it.  He hopped up to his feet.  “Let’s go.”

She nodded, mostly to herself.  She walked out of the flat, taking her keys with her, and waited until John followed her out before she shut the door and locked it.  

“I woke up before you, your flat should be secured,” he said blandly.  “Nothing to worry about for you.”

Without really acknowledging for a moment, she hoisted her bag a little higher on her shoulder.  “Yeah, thanks,” she said, a little dismissively.  She felt bad for acting that way towards him, but she remembered what he had said to her the other night and was greatly annoyed by it all.

The drive to the station was also quite uneventful, but that did not stop Rose from feeling like she was on the edge of her seat the whole time they were on the road.  She jumped at every pedestrian, every car that _might_ have cut her off.  She felt her heart pounding in her chest, and it was still early, yet.

“You need to relax,” John said, folding his hands in his lap and seeming to want to lead by example, relaxing in his seat.

“I am relaxed,” she said through clenched teeth.

“No you aren’t, your knuckles are sheet white,” he said, rolling his eyes.  “You’ll get us into a car accident and then both of us will die for no reason.”

Rose set her jaw and continued on as she had been doing, pretty much ignoring John. That was how she planned to live her life from now on, ignoring John.  It wouldn’t be too hard, not really.  He was simply another gorgeous bloke that she didn't even really want a chance with.  He was disgusting, in a way, with his snarky comments and his unnecessary rudeness.  She wanted to give him a smack for how annoying he was being.

“I know how to drive,” she snapped.

“Well, be careful,” he said, tilting his head back against his seat.

She gripped the wheel even tighter.  For all his talk about her unsafe driving, he was having no problem simply lying back and sleeping through their morning commute.  She wasn’t sure if it was possible for one person to be so infuriating.  Couldn’t they have picked a bodyguard that wasn’t an absolute arrogant _sod?_

They made it to the station without incident, and John followed in close behind Rose, making her shoulders creep up with tension and irritation.

  
“Jack, can I have a word?” Rose shouted as she entered the building.

Her friend looked up from the folder he had been looking down at. “Um, yeah, sure.”  He handed her the folder as she approached.  “There’s your stories for today, Martha already has the other copy.  What’s wrong?”

“Mr. Smith, could you leave us alone for a minute?” She asked curtly, not even bothering to look at him.  
“I can’t move more than ten feet away from you,” he said simply, shoving his hands into his pockets.   
If someone’s blood could literally boil, Rose’s was. “Well then, _move ten feet away.”_

He chuckled a little and walked away from them in measured paces, but was still watching her carefully.

“He’s driving me barmy,” Rose said, clenching her fists at her sides and glaring at Jack. “I can’t live like this.  This was a mistake.”  
Jack lifted his eyebrows at her and shook his head at her.  “You need to give it a chance, it hasn’t even been a full day.”

She laughed, a snide thing that she didn’t use very often, but she was finding a use for now.  “He’s an _idiot!”_ she hissed, “He protests everything I say, argues with me about everything, and I don’t think he would really care if I _did_ die!”

“Yes I would,” John’s voice came from exactly ten feet away.

“This is not your conversation!” Rose shouted back.  She calmed and put her hand to her forehead.  “Okay, sorry, Jack, but I just don’t think I can do this.”

“It’s about keeping you safe,” Jack said, who was quite surprised by this whole exchange. Their first meeting, in his mind, had been a little spirited, but he thought they would be good for each other.  Good for Rose, specifically, as she would need someone that she could talk to and be friends with as she was being protected.  Jack opened his mouth to say something, when an intern ran up with a letter.

  
“For Rose Tyler,” he said, looking enthusiastic and chipper, as all young, naive interns did _all the bloody time._

John came up and took the letter from the intern.  “Thank you,” he said, smiling at the boy.  He looked at Rose, who was staring daggers at her.  “What?” He said, “You all touched the letter all over the place.  Do you have gloves anywhere?” He asked Jack.

“Um, yeah, in the kitchen,” Jack said, furrowing his brows.  “Why-”

John rolled his eyes and cut him off. “Because then my fingerprints won’t get all over the place and I can go to the police station tonight and test the letter for other prints.  How much time before Miss Tyler goes on the air?”

“About an hour and a half, so she can look over the stories,” Jack said. His eyes suddenly turned worried. “Are you… Are you worried about this letter?” He asked John.  
John nodded, not pushing any attitude towards Jack this time.  He furrowed his brows. “I plan on worrying about every single letter that Miss Tyler gets,” he said simply, “If anyone sends her anything, I’m testing it for prints, I’m going to find out who sent it and then do extensive background research on them.”

Rose was stunned.  She was not expecting him to defend her properly.  She expected a half honest attempt at keeping her at least a little bit alive, but it appeared that he was going to take his job seriously, whether or not he liked her as an individual.  

“Alright,” John said when no one spoke, “Let’s go up to your office and look this over, Miss Tyler,” John said, turning on his heel and walking towards the lift.

“I’ll come get you when it’s time to come on the air,” Jack said, touching her arm lightly. She nodded and walked after John quickly, wanting to be angry at him.

“It’s my letter, you can at least let me open it.”  
“You’re emotional.”

“Why, because I’m a woman?” She snapped.

“ _No,”_ John replied, “Because this involves your life directly.  If you’re trying to suggest that I’m sexist, you can stop that right now. I’m sure if you were a man you would irritate me just as much.”  He jabbed the button on the lift and they both went inside, Rose crossing her arms and facing the doors, just waiting to escape.

John stood behind her, holding the letter.  He was quiet and she could feel the energy of his annoyance behind her.  His presence, even with how lithe his form was, was very intimidating and Rose were a lesser woman she might have submitted to him easily.

Fortunately, Rose was not that sort of woman.

She led the way to her office, unlocking it and flicking the lights on before walking inside.  

“Can you go to the kitchen and get the gloves?” John asked calmly.

“Thought you couldn’t be any farther away than ten feet from me,” Rose snarked, setting her bag down next to her desk and glaring at him.

He sighed and pulled out the folded case of the curtains, throwing them onto her desk. “I wanted to put them up without you in here, since you’re so angry about them.”  His eyes were sharp and she almost wanted to throttle him.

“Well, no need to worry about that,” she snapped, “But, you should have known that you’re supposed to iron curtains before you put them up.”  
“The way I see it, you have a curtain rod,” he pointed at it, “And you have someone to help you put them up,” he pointed at himself, “So you really don’t have anything that you need to be worried about.”

“So you’ll come to the kitchen with me?” She tried not to sound afraid, but she was a little nervous.  She wrung her hands and watched him, and then put her hands at his side when she saw him looking at them.

To her blatant surprise, his eyes softened, and he nodded.  “Yeah,” He said, “I’ll go with you, but you’re not getting out of these curtains.”

Relieved to have the edge back in his voice, she rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

The station was posh to stay the least, since Vitex supported it, and lots of money was funneled into it.  Before they made it to the kitchen that was on Rose’s floor, she skidded to a stop in front of a supply closet that read _Custodians Only._

“We’re not custodians,” John said, holding a finger up.

“True.” She opened the door.  “Better gloves in here, though.”

“Let me touch them,” he brushed past her to the box of medical like gloves that she was looking at.  “I don’t want your DNA on the letters, just in case.”

“It’s my letter, no one is going to think I wrote it.”  
He pulled out two gloves, but she had a feeling there were some that would fit his hands better and came farther into the closet. “I don’t care, Miss Tyler.  I’m going to keep on doing what I’m doing because it’s my job and I’m good at it. Excuse me.”

She stared at him for a moment, not wanting to look at him too long, but she had a questions.  She grabbed his sleeve.  “Wait a second, how did you fit the curtains in your pocket?”  
He blinked at her. “I told you. Space management.”

A click behind them made her stop short.  “Mr. Smith?”  
“Yes?”

“That was the door closing.”

“Ah!  Very astute, Miss Tyler.  Brilliant, you are!”

“I think it’s locked.”  
“No, it’s-” he stopped and she heard and felt the door jiggle when his shoulder bumped hers.  He swore and started rummaging around in his pockets.  His elbow brushed her stomach and she leapt back, trying to get away from him, but the cupboard was _tiny,_ and it was very difficult for them not to touch.  He turned around and looked down at her, his eyes glinting in the darkness.  “It’s locked.”

“That’s what I said!” She replied, crossing her arms, brushing his chest with the movement. He shot away from her and pressed his back to the door.  

“Okay,” he said in a tight voice. “We need to get out of here before we kill each other.”

“You’re telling me?” She snapped. “I have a _job_ to do in an hour and a half!”  She had to stop herself from stomping her foot, but only just.  

“I’m trying to do my job _right now,”_ he replied.  He was leaning down to see her so his fringe was almost brushing her forehead.  “So it would be best if you calmed down.”

Rose was not claustrophobic by any means, but he was too close and the space was too small and too dark.  “I’m going to kick you in someplace _very_ unpleasurable if you don’t step back.”

His eyebrows raised.  “If you’ll notice, Miss Tyler, there’s nowhere for me to go.”

She grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pushed him, slamming him into the door again.  He grunted in annoyance and grabbed her, pushing her against the shelves to get her away from him.  She felt burned where he touched her, even though he hadn’t hurt her, and sparks lit angrily behind her eyes.

“You’re an _arse!”_ She shouted.

“Thank you!” He screamed back at her, and she hit him in the chest with her palm.  He grabbed her wrist and wrenched her away from him. Of course, Rose didn’t like being restrained by him and she let out a cry of indignance.  He was too close again.  
It quickly turned into a tussling match, pushing and almost but not quite hurting each other until their positions were reversed and she pounded on the door, shouting for help. He’d been gentle in his shoving, knowing better than to even try and hurt her, whereas she had pushed him rather violently and he had a feeling that he was going to have a slight bruise on his arm the next morning.

Rose was definitely annoyed, he could hear her annoyance in her shouting as she pounded on the door.

John backed off of her, feeling anger boiling beneath the surface.  She was infuriating.  After a few moments of her calling out, a man who worked down the hallway hollered for the janitor and within a couple minutes the janitor opened the door, looking surprised to see two people in his cupboard.  Rose stormed out with a quick thank you and sped off towards her office.  

“Come on now, Miss Tyler,” John said calmly, shutting the office door behind them. “Let’s read your letter.”


	6. Chapter 6

John had run off to her office so quick that for a moment Rose was left standing in the hallway, her mind turning restlessly. She never wanted anything like that to happen again.  Her life seemed to be spiraling out of control.  Half was because of the odd letters she was getting, and half was because of this man.

She followed him to her office and walked in to him sitting on the couch, gloves on his hands and removing the letter carefully from the envelope.  He looked like he was working in a forensics lab, touching as little surface area as possible. He set the letter on top of the envelope, letting out a little noise of displeasure when a couple pictures fell out. 

Wobbling forward, she took a few steps to the couch and sat next to him, stiffly.  “What--”

It was obvious, of course, what the pictures were going to be of.  Rose  _ and  _ John this time, pictures taken from what must have been behind bushes or other ‘secret’ places.  Rose felt her jaw drop as she leaned over to look at the photos.  She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked at the anger etched into both their faces. 

“You didn’t see anyone?” Rose blurted out.

John gave her a dubious look. “Apparently not,” he said,  “I didn’t see anyone, Rose, or I would’ve taken care of it.”

She slumped a little and he seemed to feel a little guilty for snapping at her.  He looked through the photos and then put them back in the same order they had come in.  “Tonight we’ll go to the station and turn all this crap in.”

“You didn’t even read the letter yet,” She whispered. 

He pursed his lips and then smoothed out the letter, the scratch of the glove against the paper making an unpleasant sound that made a chill run up her spine.  He leaned a little closer to the paper and started reading. 

“‘My dearest Rose, Who is this man?  Why am I seeing him with you?  Why must you continue to break my heart like this?’” John cleared his throat. “‘I will not allow this kind of unfaithfulness.  I can not.  You will come back to me, Rose, because you must.  You belong to me.   _ You belong to me’.   _ There’s… The bottom part is scratched out again.”

“Seems to be his signature,” Rose said weakly.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” John said firmly, “No matter what I think of you as a person, I’m not going to allow anyone to hurt you.”  He looked her in the face, gaining her attention. “Do you understand me?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“And you don’t object to going to the police station?”

“No,” Rose replied, shaking her head.  She shook herself and stood up, sliding her hands down her skirt. “I’m gonna look over my stories. I don’t have time for this right now.”

“Alright,” John said tersely. “I think this guy must be leaving the letters here, there’s no way that he’s mailing them.  They’re getting here too fast.”  Here he thought he was being helpful and she was going about like nothing happened.  He almost laughed, but instead he folded up the pictures into the letter and put it all back.  He put the folder behind her desk, not wanting it in her viewsight, but needing it in the room still. He didn’t want it mysteriously going missing.  

Rose sat stock still at her desk with her folder spread out, looking at all the things that Jack had provided for her. She was bent over, one hand through her hair and bracing her head, the other flipping through a few things.  

John had the idea that she didn't want to be disturbed, especially not after the custodian closet incident and after the reading of the letter.  He had to admit without her to talk to or fight with, he grew bored rather quickly.  He threw the latex gloves away and settled down on the couch, ankles crossed, and let himself fall into a light sleep.

She shook him awake a little while later.  “Time to go downstairs,” she told him.  The rough edge was back in her voice, telling him she had grown her bravado back while he had napped.  He nodded and got up, following her into the lift and into the main station. 

Rose went straight to her on-air desk and sat next to Martha.

“How’s it?” Martha asked, raising her eyebrows meaningfully.  

“Horrible,” Rose admitted, “He’s an arrogant sod, and I do  _ not  _ know what I’m supposed to do with him.”

“Tolerate him?” Martha suggested.  “He is working to keep you safe, after all.”

Rose shook her head.  “He’s dreadful.  He treats me like an idiot,” She crossed her arms and stared down at the papers.  

“He’s a bit fit, though.” Martha said admiringly.

“I know,” Rose wrinkled her nose.  “Horrible, isn’t it?”

Martha hummed in the back of her throat.  “Might want to hop on that while you can, Rose.”

She snorted.  “You’re unbelievable.”

Martha splayed her hands in mock surrender.  “Hey, fine,” She said, grinning.  “But you should at least think about it.” Her voice was teasing and Rose couldn’t help but laugh.

Rose was dreadfully careful during their broadcast, watching John to make sure he was watching her.  He was, his eyes stony and trained carefully on her.  Instead of making her feel uncomfortable, she felt a little bit safer, knowing he was keeping his attention on her in case anything around her went wrong.  

She found that she didn't like him looking at her so closely.  She felt like she couldn’t breathe, and she could feel her stress level rising.  However, she was trying not to make it obvious, and was smiling and tossing her hair like she always did, drawing the audience in.  Accidentally drawing in the man that wouldn’t stop writing her odd letters. 

John didn’t  _ look  _ worried, she noted when her eyes crossed over to him as Martha spoke.  His hands were locked together in front of himself as he watched her, and she wasn’t really sure if he was blinking.

“Well, Martha,” She snapped back into focus, “I think that about wraps us up for today.  Have a safe commute if you’re just now leaving-”

“And if you have a day off,” Martha interrupted, laughing, “Lucky you.”   
“Either way have a great day, London.”   
The two of them grinned at the camera until the bell signifying the end of their broadcast rang.  Rose blew out a sigh and let her smile slip and her posture relax.  “I feel a bit…” She moved her hands in a confusing gesture, and Martha laughed.

“No clue what you’re trying to say to me.”

“Me either.”

“Hey, everything went fine,” Martha patted her hand, “It’s gonna be fine, alright?”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” She said, yet still, she was surprised when John approached her desk and put his hands on the desk.  

“Good broadcast,” he said curtly, “Let’s go back up to your office.”   
“What?”   


He raised his eyebrows at her meaningfully.  “You’re in danger.” He mouthed to her, and turned to Martha, a bright grin on his face. “Miss Jones, why don’t you come with us?  Jack will meet us up there.”

Martha nodded, sensing something was wrong.  Rose felt shaky as she stood up and walked to John.  He pulled her by the arm and pushed her in front of him, laying a hand on the small of her back to reinforce it.  Martha fell into step next to Rose, though John’s hand didn’t go to her.  He herded them both into the lift and jabbed his finger into the elevator button.  The doors closed and Rose turned to John, confusion written all over the features. 

“Miss Tyler, I do believe we will have to put your curtains up,” he said, his hand not moving from the possessive touch on her back. She wanted to push him off of her, but she felt her heart pounding wildly in her chest and she didn't want to take a chance.  

“What do we do?” Martha asked, her voice full of fear.

“Security closed off the doors.  When these lift doors open, we are going to lock ourselves into Miss Tyler’s office with Jack.”

“Why can’t we stay downstairs?” Martha asked, drawing her brows together.

“Because Miss Tyler is the one that has been receiving threatening letters,” John said, “And you and Jack are closest to her.  In this case, that could be trouble.  They might use you to get to her.”

Just then, the lift doors opened, and Martha was the first one out of the lift, Rose and John close behind.  They hit the door and Jack opened it from the inside.  

“John sent me up here. Rose, what’s going-”   
She pushed him back into the room and let John’s hand touch her back again as they came in the room.  He slammed the door and locked it, then picked up a chair and shoved it under the door knob.  “Everyone get to the couch, away from the window.  Jack, you and I are about to put some curtains up.”

Jack did as he was told, and Rose didn’t think she’d ever seen curtains get set up so fast, but John and Jack were so tall and the circumstances were a bit stressed, so she shouldn’t have been surprised when the curtains were hanging on her giant window, wrinkles still present, as they hadn’t been ironed. 

“What’s wrong?” Rose asked finally, on a whisper.

John approached her, his face grim. “They saw someone outside the station with a knife.  We don’t know if it’s someone who’s been writing you letters or not, but we need to try and keep you safe.”

She nodded and ran her hand over her face, looking almost violently stressed.  He smiled tightly at her, and it was clear that he didn't know what to do with a distressed woman besides yell at her, and that didn’t seem like it was going to have the best outcome for him at this particular moment.

She sat down on her couch and Martha took a seat next to her.  Jack was pacing nearly violently, and Rose was certain that he was going to wear a hole in the floor.  She leaned back and looked over at Martha.  “Sorry,” She said weakly.

Martha grinned.  “Yeah, it’s your fault that you attract men.  Of any sort.”

Rose allowed herself to smile weakly back, though she still felt guilty.  She glanced over at John, who was sitting behind her desk and staring at the door.  “What do you think?” She asked.  “Do you think it’s him?”

He didn’t move his eyes from the door. “Personally, no.  The man from your letter is most likely planning on bringing you flowers with a knife in his other hand for his rival.”   
“He thinks that’s you, then?”

John let out a sigh of annoyance.  “Yes.”   
“So… Not him,” Her voice sounded a little harsh, she realized, but she couldn’t stop it.   


“No, Miss Tyler, I don’t believe it’s him.  But that does not mean I’m not going to take any precaution necessary when it comes to your safety, you understand that, yeah?”

“Yeah,” She replied.  She didn't see Martha raise her eyebrows at her, noticing the electricity sparking between them even as their words were said with snide and cruel undertones.  

Rose slumped even further.  “Are they still broadcasting downstairs?” She asked, directing the question to Jack.  Jack nodded. 

“They have security around them, and the police are aware that we  _ might  _ be in trouble, but nothing is certain.”   


“This is all my fault,” Rose whispered.

“No, it’s not,” Martha said fiercely. “It is  _ not  _ your fault.  Nobody predicts who this kind of stuff happens to.  We’re safe in here, everything is going to be fine.  I’ll bet you even have a gun!  Don’t you, Mr. Smith?”   
“Yes,” John said, “I’m not using it until someone comes storming right through that door.”

“Where is it, then?”   
“It’s on my ankle, Miss Jones.”

“Ah, see?  We’re perfectly at safe, in good hands.”   
Jack smiled at Martha’s cheerful optimism. “I’m sure we’ll be fine,” he agreed, “Don’t worry, Rose, I think everything’s going to be alright.”

Rose managed a weak smile at her two friends, feeling a bit more sure of herself.  “I hope so.”

“They’ll call up to the office and knock if it’s safe,” Jack said.  “There’s a code.”   
“And who is to say that the intruder doesn’t get the code?” John snapped.  “We don’t know that.”

Rose felt her spirit deflate even more.  It was going to be a very long day.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little spook in this chapter, honestly, there's gonna be more to come, but John will protect!!!!!!
> 
> Enjoy:)

They were there for several hours.  Rose wondered why no one had come for them yet, and John hadn’t moved from his seat.  She wasn’t even sure that he had blinked in the time that they had all come in.  

Finally, there was a knock at the door, a series of complicated knocks that had John and Jack shooting to their feet.  They both moved to the door, and John pressed his ear against the thick wood.  After a moment, he opened the door, just enough to look out.

“Oh, hello.”  He opened the door all the way to reveal the station owner, Donna Noble.  She looked concerned.  “Where’s our man, Mrs. Noble?”

Donna rolled her eyes at him. “Just because we’re cousins doesn’t mean you get to be an arse, John.”

Rose’s jaw dropped. “You’re  _ cousins?”  _ She shrieked.

Donna gestured to Rose. “Even she’s shocked.” She walked over to Rose and took her hand, and Rose immediately knew something was wrong.  The redhead smiled softly, which was unlike her brash personality.  “He was your fan, Rose.  We don’t know where he went.  Security tried to look for them, but… We swept the building, and the police came in, and he was gone.  But he left us this.”  She pulled a photo out of her pocket and handed it to Rose.  It was of her, sleeping, the night before.  

Rose collapsed onto the couch and Martha immediately went to comfort her, gasping when she saw what it was.  Rose flipped the picture over and handed it to Martha.  She leaned forward and put her head in her hands. “Read it,” She said hoarsely. 

“Are you alright, Miss Tyler?” John’s voice wasn’t even the slightest bit warm as he asked, the cold tone settled back in his voice.  She couldn’t tell if that was because of her or because of the situation.  She didn’t really care.

She ignored him and Martha rubbed her back soothingly as she began to read the back of the photo. 

“‘My dearest Rose,’” She began, “‘He does not sleep in your bed.  You are a lady, I know, but he sleeps in your home, though I did not see him. I avoid him. I saw him enter your home.  I want to be in your home, in your bed.  Wait for me, my Rose. I will find you alone, one day, when you are not with him.’

“‘My love, you have a beautiful home.’” Martha handed the photo back to Donna.  Rose was quaking and crying, her body losing control.  Martha wrapped her into a hug, trying to calm her friend but finding it difficult.

John spoke then, his jaw set.  “I’m going to be sleeping on Miss Tyler’s bedroom floor from now on,” he said sternly. “I don’t know how this man got in her home with me there, but it will not happen again.”

“You should’ve slept outside, like her mother asked you to,” Donna said, crossing her arms.

“I don’t think that would’ve helped, Donna,” John snapped. “Miss Tyler, I tire of waiting. We’ll give this letter to the police department now.”

Rose looked up at him and managed to scowl at him through her shaking.  He crossed the room to her and pulled her up by the arm.  She let him pull her up but she wrenched her arm away from him and glared at him.  “Don’t touch me,” she snapped.

“I wasn’t planning on doing it indefinitely,” John shot back. “But for now we’re going to take this crap to the police.  Give me your keys.”   
“What?  No!”  She scowled at him. “I can’t just give you the keys to my car!”   
“You’re not really in a state to drive, are you?” John replied, cocking his head to the side.  “You’re flustered.”

“Of course I’m flustered!” Rose shouted. “There was just an internal threat because of some letters written to me!  But I can’t do anything about that, so you’d better let me drive my car.”

“I’m not letting you drive like this.” John scowled at her.  “Give me. Your. Keys.”

“No!” Rose shrieked.  “You can’t have my keys! You are not driving my car!”

They had all been staring at the two of them fighting, their mouths hanging open in surprise.  Jack cleared his throat, reminding everyone that he was there before he even dared to speak and break up whatever was happening in front of him.

“It might not be a bad idea to let him drive, Rose.  This hasn’t exactly been a good day for you, and he’s been trained to react accordingly to stuff like this.”   


“What?” Rose snapped, “So you’re siding with him?  How could you do that?”   
Donna shook her head. “Rose, we just want you safe.”

Rose frowned. “I can’t believe any of you,” She said, crossing her arms.  “You really want me to hand over the keys to my  _ car  _ to this  _ man?” _

Donna pursed her lips.  She shook her head and sighed.  “I think the two of you need to start to trust each other,” she said slowly.  “Please, just give him your keys.”

Rose picked up her briefcase and pulled her keys out.  After a moment of contemplation, she threw the keys full force at him and they hit him in the chest. He let out an ‘oof’ of how it hit him and he scowled at her.   _ “Fine!”  _ He snarled.  “Let’s just go.”

She stalked past him and headed towards the lift without saying goodbye to her friends.  John was close behind her all the way, her keys jangling at his side, making her fury mount higher and higher as the moments passed.  This man was coming in, taking over her like, driving her car, and still she felt unsafe.  

He followed her and John threw open her car door before stomping over to the other side and getting in.  He stuck the key in the ignition and turned it before letting out a heavy, annoyed sigh. “I can’t believe you.” He said in a low voice that made her eyebrows shoot towards her hairline.    
“What?” She snapped, turning towards him, feeling anger start to boil through her, like it always did when she spoke to him for longer than two minutes. “What can’t you believe, then?”

“That you're like this,” he replied, gesturing a bit wildly with one hand.  “You are so full of it. Everything about you is selfish and oddly cruel. I never expected you to be this way.”

She arched her brows at him. “Well, what did you expect from me?” She demanded. “You must have come into this with some preconceived notions about me for you to be acting this way.”

He leaned over the center console towards her, dark eyes snapping.  He was dreadfully close to her, in a way that left her feeling annoyed and warm. When he spoke, his voice was low and carefully controlled. “I expected the kind heiress I'd heard so much about. I expected a passionate and perfectly behaved woman, full of acceptance and a caring nature.  I expected a woman who could make a man want her because she's  _ kind,  _ but no, you're just eye candy on the news!”

She reached over and slapped him across the face before she could even think about it. She gasped right after she did it. He set his jaw after gaping for a moment, staring at her. Anger glinted in his eyes but there was no movement telling her that he would reciprocate. His muscles looked relaxed, given the circumstances, and she knew he wouldn't ever hurt her, even if he wasn't her bodyguard. 

A blanket of discomfort settled over them as they stared at each other, one in shock and one in anger. After several moments of a heavy silence that she couldn't bear to break, he cleared his throat quietly,!and leaned back into his seat. “Right,” he said tersely. “Off to the police station, then.”

Rose felt sick to her stomach. She had never imagined she would truly get physical with him, besides the pushing around they did in the cupboard.  She opened her mouth and then closed it again before leaning back in her seat, slumping over as he started them off on the road. 

“I'm sorry,” she said slowly. 

“Yes.” He replied. 

The ride went by in silence, Rose’s shoulders up near her neck as she felt frustration pour through her body. This wasn't fair, none of it was. She chastised herself for not having better control over her reactions and laced her fingers together in her lap. 

It had been a horrible day, a dreadfully long day full of awful things. And on top of it, he had been downright  _ mean  _ to her, telling her all about what a repulsive human being she was. 

She had to admit though, that wasn't good enough of a reason to hit him.  Her embarrassment was probably palpable, but he didn't say anything, just kept driving without looking over at her. 

They reached the police station, and Rose had to admit that she was a bit surprised when John came round to open her door for her. She stood up and refused to make eye contact with him. He locked her car and pressed his hand to her back, leading her into the station. 

“We’ll be seeing my friend, Sarah Jane Smith,” John said. 

Rose glanced over at him. “You’re sure you're not related to her?” 

He chuckled and removed his hand from her back. “Yes, I'm sure. We've been friends for s long time,” he said. 

No one seemed to mind John being there, or at least, they tolerated him.  He didn't greet anyone, which made her think that perhaps they didn't like him, or he didn't like them. Either or, really. He wouldn't look right in anybody’s face. 

An older woman with dark hair and a sophisticated disposition looked over and saw them. She smiled brightly and walked over, looking both John and Rose over. 

“Who's your friend, John?” She asked. 

John grimaced at her. “Sarah Jane, this is my employer, Miss Rose Tyler. She has a bit of a stalker, we need some help.”  He pulled out the most recent letter and handed it to Sarah Jane. 

“What do you want me to do about it?” Sarah Jane furrowed her brows at John. 

“I want you to run it for prints,” John said, “The other ones got touched too much, but this one wasn't.”

“I'll take a look,” Sarah Jane said, “I'll run a handwriting test too,” she said, looking the envelope over. She looked over to Rose and smiled. “Don't worry, Miss Tyler, you're in good hands with John here.”

Rose smiled tightly, trying not to retort something rude.  She  _ was  _ being kept safe, so she supposed she didn't have anything to complain about.  She shifted on her feet.  “Do you think you can figure something out about it?” She asked a little timidly. 

“Hopefully, yes,” Sarah Jane said encouragingly. “I can call John once I figure it out.”

“That would be great,” John said, “It's all getting a bit serious,” he said, “I don't want to have a shootout anytime soon.”

Rose furrowed her brows and glanced at him worriedly. “You think there would be a shootout?”

John shrugged. “Maybe.”

Sarah Jake rolled her eyes. “Oh, God, John, don't scare her.”

“I'm only being realistic,” John said, crossing his arms across his chest.  “We should all be aware of what  _ could  _ happen.  There is someone after her, plain and simple.”

Rose pressed her lips together, suddenly feeling a little sick.  This was  _ terrifying,  _ the more she thought about it, and they were standing in a police station handing over evidence.  She felt her breathing quicken and wondered what was next.  This wasn’t the end of it, it couldn’t be.  

Sarah Jane put her hand on Rose’s shoulder, snapping the younger woman out of whatever trance she had been dragged down into.  “You look a little pale, dear. Why don't you come with me and I'll get you a cup of tea?”

“Okay,” Rose said, feeling a little shaky. 

“What am I supposed to do?” John complained, not seeming to notice Rose’s upset in the slightest. 

“Well,” Sarah Jane said over her shoulder as she led Rose off, “You can come with us if you keep your rude mouth shut.”   
Rose couldn't help but laugh as John grumbled but then followed right after them, his miserable self  just a couple of paces behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please review?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really not sure why I have such a bug for this fic, but I couldn't stop writing yesterday and so here's another chapter (also the longest chapter so far, not sure how I did that if I'm honest). I was going to wait until tomorrow to post it, but I couldn't do that. I hope you enjoy!!
> 
> In the next chapter we will get a peek at John's past

Sarah Jane handed off the envelope before the three of them reached her office.  It was cozy and rather looked like the sitting room of a caring mother more so than a workplace.  She led Rose to sit in a plush chair and hurried over to the tea maker she had in the corner.

“Not as good as a kettle, I know,” She said, “But in a pinch, it’ll do.”

John sat in the chair next to Rose, crossing his ankles far in front of himself.  “Sarah Jane, if we can track who did this, it’ll be easier on all of us.”

“Shut up, you just want to move on from this job because you’re an arse,” Sarah Jane said simply, touching Rose’s shoulder in reassurance.

“He certainly is,” Rose mumbled.  “I need to use the ladies’.” She stood and smoothed shaking hands over her clothes.

Sarah Jane directed her down a hallway and John stood up, making to follow her.  Sarah Jane frowned at him.  “What are you doing?”

“Following her,” John pointed after Rose, his expression confused.

“No,” Sarah Jane said.  
“I’m supposed to be with her at all times.”

“John,” Sarah Jane crossed her arms. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but she is in a _police station,_ filled with _police,_ and it’s pretty clear that she doesn’t want to be around you right now. What did you do to her?”

John blinked at her, not used to having her speak to him this way. “What do you mean, what did _I_ do to her?”

Sarah Jane sighed and tilted her head, and annoyed look on her face.  “There’s loads of tension between you two.  What did you do?”

“We just don’t get along,” John shrugged, “We fight all the time, and she hit me on the way over here,” He shook his head. “She’s impossible, thinks she’s special.”

After fighting back a scowl, Sarah Jane realized what exactly John had said. “Why’d she hit you?”

“Um.”

“John?”

“I may have told her that she was eye candy for the news, and she was… Selfish.”  John didn’t seem to realize there was anything wrong with what he had said until he was reiterating it to one of his oldest friends.

Sarah Jane groaned, rubbing her hand over her face.  “You are so stupid.”

He furrowed his brows at her. “Explain that, if you please?”

A level of frustration was apparent on Sarah Jane’s face, so he wasn’t about to press it, but finally, she answered him as she went back to fix Rose’s tea.  “First of all, she’s your boss, technically, so it’s not in your best interest to be so rude to her.  On the other hand, she’s a very pretty girl and you haven’t had a girlfriend since you were seventeen.”

“Oi!”

“What?  You haven’t.”

“And you know exactly what that is!”

Her face sobered a bit. “I do know,” she replied. “But it’s time to move on from that, it wasn’t your fault-”

“Not with her.”

“Maybe with her.”

John sputtered a bit, adjusting his tie and overall looking very flustered and upset.  “You are ridiculous.  I don’t _want_ a girlfriend, and I certainly don’t want to date Rose Tyler.  She’s insufferable and full of herself and we had a tussling match in a cupboard and she actually bruised me!” He ran his hands through his hair.  “For you to think that that would constitute some sort of healthy relationship is absolutely ludicrous.”

Sarah Jane blinked at his outburst, pouring the hot water into the cup. “Honestly, John, that sounds more like sexual tension.”

“I can assure you, it is nothing but pure hatred.  We’re not very subtle about how much we despise one another.”

“I doubt that, somehow,” Sarah Jane said. “You’re lonely, John.  Why are you pushing her away?”

John scowled. “Because she’s _awful!”_

“Now, you can keep thinking that, but to be fair, I think you’ll end up regretting treating her so poorly.”  Sarah Jane’s voice was even and full of the wisdom that somehow accompanied her.

“Oh, hush,” John shook his head.  “I don’t regret anything I’ve ever done in my life.  I want to make sure she’s safe and move on.  That’s all.”  He shoved his hands into his pockets.

Sarah Jane shook her head.  “You can’t just move on,” she told him. “You’ll have to stay with her awhile after to make sure there are no more threats. You’re a professional, you know that.”

He rubbed his eye with two fingers, almost ignoring her before sitting back in his seat.  “I know that, I just try not to think about it. I want to get away from her as quickly as I possibly can.”

A few moments later, Rose entered the room again, looking a little more refreshed.  She must have splashed cold water on her face, the way she was looking.  She sat down in the chair that she had vacated to leave.  

“Are you feeling better, dear?” Sarah Jane asked.

“Yes, thank you,” Rose said, smiling a little. “I’m a little embarrassed, honestly.  I didn’t think I would react this way.”

“Well, you’ve reacted dramatically before, so I don’t see why you’re so surprised,” John snapped, rolling his eyes.  

Rose set her jaw and Sarah Jane saw her eyes glaze over, the mask of a businesswoman falling into place.  Sarah Jane had seen it on herself many a  time, and she was sorry to see it on a woman so young.

“Maybe if there hadn’t been an intruder, I wouldn’t have had an issue today, Mr. Smith,” she spat out.  “So you shouldn’t look down on me.”

“Oh, that’s not the reason I look down on you.”

“You have made that perfectly clear!” Rose nearly shouted.

“Rose, how do you take your tea?” Sarah Jane asked.

Rose put her face in her hands.  “I’m sorry,” She said, “I didn’t mean to-” she mumbled her tea preferences to Sarah Jane, who prepared the mug and then handed it to Rose.  

“It’s alright.  An intruder would be a perfectly reasonable excuse for you to be a little on edge.  I think _John_ over here is being a little insensitive to you.”  Sarah Jane tried to reassure her with a woman’s touch.   
Rose blew out a sigh and took the mug. “Thank you. At least someone sees it that way besides me,” she said, the light back in her eyes a bit with her comment.  Sarah Jane laughed. She had a feeling that she was going to like this girl quite a bit.  

She also had a feeling that John would like her too if he gave her the chance, which she was not sure that he would.

“Do you want to tell me about the letters?”

It was painful business, really, because John didn’t like to let Rose talk and Rose didn’t want to let John talk, so their reiteration of the story was filled with lots of glaring and interruptions.  Sarah Jane kept up as best as she could but she quickly found that it was very difficult for them to do anything at all without a smart comment or a little dig at the other.  She knew protocol, knew that John lived with Rose, but she couldn’t really imagine that working out too well.  Especially now that John said he was going to have to sleep on the floor of Rose’s bedroom because of the most recent picture.

Rose had to keep stopping herself from rubbing her eyes, so she kept sipping her tea every time she had the urge to do so.  Sarah Jane noticed and remarked that Rose looked rather tired.

“I suppose it’s been a long day,” she said slowly, “I’ve never had a lockdown in my workplace before.”

“No, I suppose you haven’t.” Sarah Jane said fondly, a motherly quality to her voice.  “I think the two of you should head off.  It’s getting dark, you’ll probably want to get something to eat and get some rest.”

Rose nodded.  “That’s not a bad idea.”

“Well then, we’ll head out,” John got to his feet. “Thank you, Sarah Jane. Give me a call in the morning?”

Sarah Jane rolled her eyes at his stiff words.  “Yes, I’ll call you when the print results come back.  I’ll run them once you leave.”

She turned and took the mug from Rose and set it next to her tea maker.  “I’ll make sure to do everything twice to make sure it’s accurate.  I know you’re scared, Rose, but you’ve got a good team behind you, even if this one is a complete arse.”

Rose laughed, a little humorlessly, and stood up. “Yeah, well, unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Sarah Jane snorted.  “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

They bid their goodbyes and the two of them left the station, and headed right out to the car.  John still had the keys, and he flung open Rose’s door before getting in on his side.

Rose glared at him.  “You’re going to break my car,” she said coldly, right before getting in.  She heard him start to speak, but she had shut the door just in time, cutting him off.

He slid in on the driver’s side and stuck the key in the ignition.  “I’m not going to break your car,” he said, “Realistically, it would be very difficult to break a car.”

“Well, I’m sure you’d find a way, just to spite me,” Rose said, crossing her arms.

“And to think, I was going to congratulate you on not absolutely ripping me to shreds in front of my friend.”

“I’m surprised she’s your friend, Mr. Smith. She seems _nice.”_

“Ah, yes, that’s exactly what I want to do.  Defend my friendship to you,” his face contorted into an ugly scowl as he pulled them out of the lot.

“Do you even know how to get to my flat?” She asked.

“Yes,” he said, “I memorized the route.  Do you want to stop for dinner first?”

She was a bit taken aback that he had asked her at all, seeing as he clearly did not care about her opinion. She blinked.  “No, I want to cook something.”

“You cook?”

“Yes.”

“Ah."

They rode in silence for a bit, and she realized what he was thinking.  She cleared her throat and shifted around in her seat a bit.  

“I’ll cook for you, too.”

“Oh, well, you don’t have to.”

“I know, but I’m not… You have to eat.”  She crossed her arms, feeling a bit exposed.  “I’m not a slave driver, I wouldn’t withhold food from you.”

“Alright.  Um.” He paused, as though it hurt him to say what he thought next.  “Thank you, then.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied, looking out the window.  She could feel the tension still radiating between them.  There was no good blood between them, clearly.  She was offering him a dinner, mostly because she was going to have to, but the point was that she was being kind.  

They drove the rest of the way back quietly, and he handed her her keys once they reached her flat.  She took them and jammed them into her bag.  She got out of the car and went right up to the flat, locking her car until it beeped as she went.

She was a bit nervous, and she was able to admit it.  She could hear John behind her and was paranoid that someone else might be behind her as well.  He came up behind her, his breath huffing out a bit.

“Don’t go so far ahead of me.”  He said.  “Don’t.”

She didn't answer him, just went straight inside and started pulling things out of the fridge.  She kicked off her shoes as she went, and John stood in the doorway of her kitchen.  He watched her until he finally said, “What are you making?”

“Shepard’s pie,” she said.  “Should take about an hour.  Not too late, is it?”

“No,” he replied.  “Not too late.  I’m going to secure the house.”

She rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes before nodding slowly.  “Okay.”

In all honesty, she wasn’t sure what she wanted. Perhaps it was the need for comfort that made her want to run home to her mother.  Once he left she prepared the meal, letting herself get lost in it, trying to forget that John was there at all.

With the Shepard’s Pie in the oven, she leaned against the counter and crossed her arms.  John entered the kitchen again and stared at her.

“Are you alright?”  He asked.

“I don’t know,” she admitted on a whisper.  “I- I’m gonna shower, while this is cooking.  I’ll be right back.”

John’s eyes seemed a little worried, and she barely noticed.  She brushed past him and he let her go, but his hand reached out to her as she walked down the hall.  He snapped his hand back to his side and bunched up his fists.  He was truly ridiculous.

When she came back, she was freshly showered with her hair up in a bun, wearing pajama pants and a vest top.  She wore dark, square glasses that fit her face perfectly, and her eyes looked tired behind them.  She was just in time, as the oven had finished cooking up their dinner.  She pulled it out of the oven and scooped out two servings.  She handed a plate to John, and wordlessly padded into the living area.

“All secured?” She asked him.

“Yep.”

“Okay,” she said, curling up in the corner of the couch, her plate on the arm of the couch with a towel underneath it. She turned the telly on and settled in, her face adopting a relaxed look.

John realized he was still standing with the plate in his hand, and he moved to sit in her armchair, as far away from her as he could get.  He took a bite of the Shepard’s Pie, and he realized that she was actually quite the cook.  He wasn’t about to say anything positive about it, though.  He wasn’t sure that she deserved that.

After they ate, she brought down loads of blankets to put next to her bed.  “I can get some kind of cot or air mattress or something,” she said.

“That would be good,” he said.

It seemed when they weren’t fighting, they were just incredibly awkward with each other.  He changed into his jimjams and she locked her bedroom door, since they were both in there and she would feel safer that way.  She had really created a nest of blankets and pillows on the floor, and after double checking her window, he laid down.  

Rose got into her bed and settled onto her back, turning the lamp off.  “Goodnight, Mr. Smith.”

“Goodnight, Miss Tyler.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review?


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which John redeems himself........... Just a little bit

She hated having him next to her.  It felt like an invasion of privacy, even though he wasn’t in her bed or anything.  But she could hear him moving, hear gentle breath whispering between his lips.  It wasn’t annoying, not really, but she wanted to lean over and hit him anyway.  He did not belong in her room, in fact, it was the  _ last place  _ he belonged and she really wanted him out.

They’d said goodnight, but the fact of the matter was, she was still wide awake.  She lay stiff on her back, and she could tell her breathing was shallow.  It was all around and uncomfortable and unnatural position, as she usually slept on her side or her stomach, but she couldn’t get comfortable with him next to her.

“Miss Tyler?” His voice, already heavy with oncoming sleep, shook her from the thoughts that were running wildly through her head. 

“What?” She snapped.

“It strikes me that you are very uncomfortable right now,” he murmured.

“Oh, cheers, Mr. Smith, whatever gave you that idea?” She replied, sarcasm lacing its way through every word that left her mouth.

He sat up, hair more askew than it had been when he laid down, his eyes bright in the dark.  “I know you’re afraid, what I can’t understand is why you are afraid to have me in this room with you,” he scowled, and she could see it very clearly.  “I am not here to hurt you.”

“I know you aren’t,” she sat up too, needing to be above him again, “But I don’t  _ trust  _ you, so it’s hard to- you’re in my bedroom.”

He glanced around and feigned surprise.  “Oh!  Am I, Miss Tyler? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Yeah, well, you are.  And that’s… Weird, for a girl like me, to have a man in her room.”

“You saying you’ve never had a man in your room before?”   
“That’s- well, no, but, I always knew-” her voice trailed off as she thought of her relationships in the past.  They weren’t all really good relationships, true, and some of them had been downright bad.  “You know, I don’t have to share my past with you,” she said, and flopped back down on the bed. 

“I never said you did.”

“Yeah well, there you go, then.”

He sniffed.  “Would it help you trust me more if I told you about a vulnerable moment in my life?’   
“What, and then you ask for a vulnerable moment of my life in return?” She asked. “No, ta.”

She heard him growl in frustration.  “Miss Tyler, I think I am  _ living  _ in a vulnerable point in your life right this very moment.”

Rose couldn’t stop herself from sitting up again and peering down at him, having trouble seeing him without her specs on.  So she reached down and put them on so she could see the outlines of his face more clearly.  

“Ah, hello.”

“What?” She snapped. 

“I have your full attention now.”   
She rolled her eyes, “Yeah, like you wanted it.”

John stared at her, a stony expression locked onto his face.  “Well, Miss Tyler, it’s actually very rude to not pay attention to someone when they’re talking to you.  You are not an exception to this rule.”

“I didn’t think I was.”

“Clearly you did, because you just now put your glasses on.”

“I don’t like how I look in my glasses,” She was backpedaling and she knew it, but there wasn’t a better explanation for why she hadn’t given him her attention.  She had a feeling ‘because I despise you’ was not something that would make him talk about his life, and after all, she was a bit curious.

He sniffed.  “Well I don’t see why you think I should care what  _ you  _ think your glasses look like.”  He looked at her as though she was  _ completely  _ ridiculous and had just spit all over herself.  “Would you like me to talk now?”

“If you don’t mind.”   
“My parents are dead.”

And with that, he laid down and rolled over on his side, facing away from her.

She felt her jaw hang open with that little bit of information.  He was an orphan.  And he had just laid down, like nothing had even been said!  She sputtered for a moment, realizing she was letting out a sympathetic little whine, and said,

“No, you get back up and tell me more.”

He sat up. “You want to hear more.”

“Yes.”

“Because you don’t trust me.”

“... Yes.”

He cleared his throat, and it occurred to her that perhaps he thought she would leave it at that, and now that she hadn’t, he was a bit uncomfortable.  Reasonable, she supposed, but she wasn’t about to back down now.  He’d dug himself a hole, as it were, and he was going to have to see it all through to the end.  She crossed her arms and watched him as he faced his front, giving her a view of his side profile, lit by the strips of moonlight that could fit in through her curtains. 

“They died when I was eighteen.  They had left me the house and everything, but it was still… I still never wanted to see it.  I never wanted them dead.  But they were responsible people, and the house was paid off, so I had -- still have, I suppose -- a house to live in, and I finished my education on my savings.  They were shot, Miss Tyler, both of them, shot in the head.”

She let out a little gasp that she hadn’t meant to, but he said it so bluntly.  Like it didn’t matter.  Like he had said it so many times that this was just another mechanical version about how he was going to go about it. 

He ran his hand through his hair and finished. “And that’s when I realized I wanted to protect people, but I didn't think I could make a living on that.  So, really, I’m not a  _ Mr.  _ Smith, I’m a  _ Dr.  _ Smith.”

“You’re a doctor.”

“I have my doctorate, yes.”

“Like a medical doctor?’

“Yes.”

“So you could-”

“So I could help people even if I couldn’t protect them.” He looked at her, and though his voice had softened, his eyes had not.  “Now, Miss Tyler, you know something about me.  I shan’t tell you any more.”  he laid down again, on his side, away from her, and she was left with her mouth open, gaping like a fish.  

Finally, after several moments in which he certainly could’ve fallen asleep, she spoke.  “Would you like me to call you Dr. Smith, then?”

He shuddered visibly. “No, I would not.”

“Why not?  You’ve earned the title.”

“My father was Mr. Smith.  So that’s who I am, too,” he said, “And besides, I don’t think you could bite down on ‘Dr.’ quite the same way you can on ‘Mr.’.”

“You sayin’ that so I can yell at you better?”

“I don’t want your yelling to be awkward. I couldn’t call you ‘Dr. Tyler’ of course.”

“What, you think I’m not smart enough?”   
“I think you aren’t driven enough, but that is  _ hardly  _ the point.  Goodnight, Miss Tyler.”

Well, he had her awake good and proper, and now she wanted to fight with him, but it was very clear that he was done talking and if she was honest, she would feel a bit like a sod for yelling at him when he had just been so forthcoming with her.  

She huffed and took her glasses off of her face, shutting them with the little clicks of the arms hitting the main piece, and tossed them gently onto her nightstand.  

He spoke again. “It’s rude not to say goodnight back.”

She scowled at his back. “Goodnight, Dr. Smith.”

“Ah. Don’t.  Goodnight, Dr. Tyler.”

She rolled onto her side, facing away from him, and stewed quietly for several minutes before she heard him fall asleep.  Several minutes after that, she fell asleep, too.

Rose stirred at every point someone moved during the night.  If John rolled over, or if he let out a little snore, that really wasn’t annoying, it just woke her up.  She sat up, wide awake, at the sound of someone outside her flat. She looked over to see that John was already awake, and standing at her window.  He moved to look past her curtains and let out a sigh.

“Just a drunk woman coming home,” he told her, “It’s fine.”

“Okay,” She replied, not seeming too convinced.  “I don’t think you’re telling the truth.”

He sighed and peered out the window again, using two fingers to move the curtains out of the way.  “I can’t see.”

She huffed, annoyed, and rolled herself out of bed to walk over and move the curtains herself.  He was quicker than her, though, and shoved her back onto her bed, coming over her like a cage.  His hands grabbed her wrists and she was firmly pinned onto the mattress beneath him. It also didn't help that she couldn’t see him very well, so when she kicked up she might have hit him in a softer spot than intended. That was just based on the little grunt he let out when she made contact.  He pressed her harder down, in retaliation, she knew.  She let out a cry of outrage and shoved at him ineffectively.  He was a lot stronger than he looked, and from what she could see of his eyes, they looked afraid. 

“I lied, okay?” He said, his breath harsh against her face. “I don’t know who’s out there.   _ Do as you are told, and stay in bed.” _

He waited for a moment, as though not quite sure what she was going to do, and slowly released her wrists, getting to his feet.

“Well, who do you think it was?” She asked from her position.

“If I knew, Miss Tyler, I’d be out there with my gun at him.  As it stands, that can’t really happen, now can it?’

She swallowed hard.  “More pictures?” She whispered.

“Maybe,” He told her, eyes searching hers.  “Maybe not.  Go to bed.  I’m going to stay up for-” he checked a watch that she hadn’t realized he was wearing.  “Another two and a half hours.”

“Then you’re no use to me tomorrow.”

“I’m use to you right now, that's good enough.”  He said, and then softer, with pain in his voice, he whispered: “Did I hurt you?” 

She adjusted herself under the covers and looked up at him, surprised. “No, you didn't hurt me.”

His breath left him on a quick “whoosh”, and he said, “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rough with you.”

It seemed his vulnerability had opened him up in an odd way, as he was not only apologizing, but pushing even farther with it. 

“It's alright. I- I should've listened to you.”

“That's… I can't use that as an excuse.  I should never lay my hands on you.”  He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I am…  _ Scum  _ for doing that.”

Rose felt an inexplicable urge to comfort him, but had a feeling he wouldn't receive it well in his current state. Instead, she shifted a bit uncomfortably and said “well, I forgive you, so you don't need to worry about it any more.”

“Mm.” He did not sound convinced. 

She scratched the back of her ear. “Do you need a hug, Mr. Smith?”

He chuckled, a low sound that was rich and vibrant, despite how bland he had shown his personality to be. “No, thank you, Miss Tyler.”

She smiled a little in spite of herself and said, “Maybe if we keep our personal digs to a minimum we will be less likely to physically fight,” she laughed awkwardly, “I certainly did a number on you in that cupboard.”

“Well,” he seemed surprised that she would say anything about it. “I suppose, yes.”

“Can you forgive me?”

“Of course.”

“Will we stop fighting now?”

“Can I be honest?”

“I’d prefer it, yeah.”

“I don't think so.”

She flopped back on her bed. “Good,” she said determinedly, “that would be really boring of you.”

He laughed again and she fell asleep, feeling a little bit better about the whole situation. 

The next morning, she mixed up what she called “truce oatmeal” when John asked, though they still ate in awkward silence before leaving for the station.  

“Are you even awake?” She asked him as she drive, now in full possession of her car keys. 

“Yes,” he replied, sounding insulted. 

“Well, you said you were going to be up late.”

He sighed. He had a bit of a fear that she would worry when something happened. “Miss Tyler, I was once up for 76 hours straight and I didn't even feel the urge to nap.”

“You're a liar.”

“Maybe, but I'm a really good one.”

She sniffed. “Well, keep ‘em peeled, I expect to feel antsy today, what with what happened yesterday.”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw his mouth settle into a grim line, and she knew he was agreeing. 


	10. Chapter 10

The day went smoothly in the office, but Rose felt as though she was on pins and needles all day.  She knew there was nothing wrong, that security was up and even Donna was keeping her eyes open for anything amiss, but she couldn't shake the feeling of uneasiness that swept over her several times during and after her broadcast.

John’s phone rang while she was at her desk at around three o’ clock and she nearly had a heart attack.

He gave her an amused look and rolled his eyes. “This is a telephone, Miss Tyler.”

She squinted at him. “I know what it is.”

Laughing to himself, he answered it, and immediately sat a little straighter. “Sarah Jane.  Yes, of course.  No, I’m not busy, go ahead. Do you need us to come up?”

Rose wished he would’ve thought of her and put the woman on speakerphone or something, but it seemed it was going to be a long time before John thought about anything besides himself.  She leaned her chin on her hand and watched him.

His parents had been killed. He’d told her that, of course, but it was so different to hear someone say that something so horrible had happened to them without actually being involved in it.  It was if it hadn’t really set in for her, like she didn’t believe it.  But it was interesting, if nothing else.

He was a bodyguard, had been on the force, to protect other people from the same fate as his parents. She wasn’t entirely sure why he was doing that when he could be making loads of money with his doctorate degrees. It would certainly benefit him as a person more, and perhaps he would be less miserable.

But, she supposed, this must be what he wanted on some level, since his face displayed that of a man incredibly intrigued by what the person on the other line was telling him.  His face was set into hard lines and his eyes stared at nothing.  

She admitted, perhaps for the first time, or second, that he was an attractive man.  His features were classic and though not kind, displayed an almost kingly nature.  In a past life, she mused, he may have been royalty.  

She wondered what his parents looked like.  Who had he gotten the color of his eyes from?  Or the (frankly magnificent) line of his nose?  It all pieced together from two people she had never seen or met before, and those people had been alive. 

He was still fighting for those people.

With a sudden jolt, she shook herself and turned back to her computer.  She didn't need to be staring at him. She knew that sometimes negative passion could twist and manifest itself as other kinds of passion. She didn’t want that.  Or at least, she hadn’t.  She didn’t.  A man was the last thing she needed, especially now, when she had to look out and not pick the wrong man, the wrong man being her literal stalker. 

“No mail today,” John said as he hung up the phone.   
“How do you know?”   


“You would’ve gotten it from Jack by now,” he replied, leaning back on the couch and closing his eyes.

She felt her shoulders creep up towards her neck, her anxiety mounting.  “And what did Sarah Jane have to say, then?”

He shook his head.  “Nothing.  The only prints on the envelope were ours and when it was opened up, since I had gloves on, there were no prints at all.”

Rose felt her jaw drop open.  That couldn’t be possible.  That literally could not be possible.  She ran a hand through her hair and then dropped her head heavily to her desk.  “So he used gloves, too?” She asked, her voice muffled by her papers.

John laughed.  “It would appear that way.  He’s dreadfully careful for someone who wants to get together with you.”

“He must know he’s doing something wrong,” she replied, looking blearily up at John.

John rolled his eyes again. “Or he thinks you think he’s doing something wrong, or he’s trying to be mysterious for you.”  After looking at the look on her face, he teased, “Do you need a hug, Miss Tyler?”

She scowled at him. “No, I do not need a hug,” she said, “What I need is for this to-”

Her phone rang then, not her cell, but her office phone.  Someone would have to ring and then ask for her at the station.  And that someone had put this person through.  John turned sideways on the couch, tucking one leg under the other.  “Well, go on,” he said, “Answer it.”

She picked up the receiver and pressed it to her ear, feeling a bit vulnerable.  “Hello? Rose Tyler speaking.”   
There was some gentle breathing on the other end of the phone, but nothing else.  She beckoned John over. Though looking a bit reluctant, he came to stand next to her.  

“Hello? Who is this?” Rose asked, trying to sound soft.  She needed to coax this person, if it was who she thought it was.  A chill ran down her spine.

John roughly took the phone from her.  “John Smith.  Who is this?” He demanded in a gruff voice.  There was a quiet gasp and then a click as the other person hung up the phone.  John shook his head and handed the receiver back to Rose.  “That was your man,” He said.  “He’ll probably call back.  I’m going to ask Sarah Jane for equipment to trace the call next time.”

“So we’ll be going to the station after work again today?” She asked, feeling a bit dejected.  John nodded and went back to the couch, throwing himself down onto it.  

“Looks like it,” he said.  

Rose chewed her bottom lip and put her shaking hands in her lap. “I want this to be over,” She said quietly.

“I know,” John replied.

It was the most kind thing he had ever said to her.

She smiled a little. “I have a headache,” She said.  

John looked a little worried at that, his brows drawn together in concern.  “Take the couch, have a nap.”   
She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut.  “I need… I have work to do,” she said, running her hands through her hair again.  “I’m so behind.”

“And you’re no good to anyone in this damn station if you’re exhausted,” John pointed out, standing.  “I’ll take your chair, play games on your computer or something,” he gestured with his hand.  “You’ll just get grouchy if you’re tired.”

She grumbled, but stood up from her desk and kicked her heels off.  “I don’t feel safe enough to sleep here.”

He shot her a look. “I’m really going to try to not be insulted, but I have to admit, that’s very difficult,” he crossed his arms and moved past her to sit on her chair. “Do you have any restrictions on this computer or can I browse the web at my convenience?”   
“Why do you talk like you’re from the eighteen hundreds?”

“I was raised classically. You didn’t answer my question.”

“Do what you want,” she laid down on the couch, taking one of the tiny throw pillows and propping her head up.  “But don’t wake me unless I’ve slept for longer than an hour.”

“If that’s what you want, Miss Tyler,” he said a little absently, and she could already hear him typing away on her computer.  She had no idea how he planned to occupy himself, and she wasn’t even sure that she cared. She was too drained, her body protesting the strain of the past couple of days.

She woke up to someone shaking her shoulder.  It was John, of course, leaning over her and looking oddly worried.  “Time to head out,” he said softly.  He got to his feet and moved away from her quickly, handing her her shoes.  She took them and slipped them on, feeling a little groggy from having just woken up.

“Any news from Sarah Jane?” Rose asked.

John shook his head.  “No,” he said, “I called her again and asked if we could come pick up some equipment.  Who would’ve put this man through to your personal phone?”   


Rose squeezed her eyes shut, needing a moment to herself to think.  She sighed.  “I guess the secretary downstairs.”

“Want to pay them a visit?”

“No,” she said softly, “There was no way they could’ve known.”

She looked down at her hands.  Over the past few days, she was feeling less and less like herself.  There was almost none of herself left, not with all the worrying that she had to do.  Her body was almost completely drained   She could tell that John knew, on some level, that something was wrong with her.  And of course, he wouldn’t do anything about it.

After a few moments of staring into space, she handed John her keys, not really feeling safe enough to drive.  There was a sort of fuzz in the back of her brain from sleeping and from the toll that the whole ordeal had taken on her.  The past few days hadn’t even felt real, really, and she wasn’t sure what to do with herself.  

“Are you alright?”  He asked, “I don’t have to drive, I know you’re-”   


“I’m fine,” She cut him off, lifting a hand to stop him physically.  “I just need a break.  I don’t know what to do.”

John sighed. “What you need to do is trust me.  You need to let me do what I need to do to keep you safe.  You need to stop fighting me.”

She nodded, realizing that perhaps he was right.  “Yeah,” she said, “Fine,” she said it with a bit of a bite to it, needing to get a hold on the situation once more. 

John didn’t say anything the rest of the ride.  Sarah Jane hugged Rose the moment she came in and Rose had to wonder what John had told her.  Either way, she accepted the comfort gladly, closing her eyes and wondering what her mother would have to say about this.

Not that she was planning on telling her mother, even though she was sure that someone was giving her reports on at least some of the things that were happening.  She swallowed hard and pulled back from Sarah Jane.   
“We don’t even know that he’ll call back,” she said, running a hand through her hair.

Sarah Jane shook her head. “No, we don’t,” she agreed, “But John is right.  It’s way better to have the equipment to take care of things, even if it doesn’t happen, then for it to happen again and not to have anything to keep the investigation moving.”

Rose nodded. “Yeah.  Yeah, I know that, on some level, I know that, but-” she shook her head. “I don’t feel like myself anymore.  I’m afraid to visit my friends, or my parents, because of all the pictures that have been put out,” She took a deep breath, righting herself a little.  

After a moment, Sarah Jane realized that Rose was done speaking.  She nodded solemnly.  “I think you’re smart to stay away from your friends, even though it hurts,” she smiled, “You’re very brave, Rose, you’re doing really well.”

Rose smiled weakly. “You’ve seen people behave worse than me.”

Sarah Jane leaned forward and whispered, “I’ve seen people that behave worse than  _ John.” _

Rose giggled, her face lighting up a little at the dig at the bodyguard.  She scrubbed her hand over her face.  “Well, then, I can’t be doing too bad.”

“No, you’re certainly not.”

John came into the room, his arms weighed down with heavy equipment.  “What are you two giggling about?”   


“None of your business,” Rose said, tilting her chin up.

John’s lip quirked up in the poor excuse for a smile but Sarah Jane noticed that it was a better interaction than the last time they had spoken.  She patted Rose on the shoulder and shot John a look of warning.  “All right,” she said, “The two of you better scoot off, then.”

Rose nodded. “Yeah, you’re right.  Thanks, Sarah Jane.”

“Yeah, thank you,” John said, a genuine smile lighting his face.

“You’re welcome, just stop coming in here, and get this solved,” Sarah Jane shook her finger at them. “But I’m sure I’ll see you soon.”

John chuckled and preceded Rose out of the building, managing to unlock the door before putting everything he was carrying in the backseat (with Rose’s help, as she had free hands) and then getting in the driver’s seat.  

Rose settled in, kicking her shoes off again.  She didn't have anything to say and so she didn’t say anything, tilting her head back and resting as John started the car and began to drive.  

After a few long minutes, she felt the car speed up and Rose sat up straighter, looking over at John’s panicked face.  He swore as he looked in the rear view mirror.  He swore again and hit the steering wheel.

“What is it?” Rose asked, turning to look over her shoulder when John pushed her back into her seat, his hand on the arm farthest from him.   
“Don’t,” he hissed, “Don't look behind you.  We’re being followed.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My computer was fighting me, so this took longer than it should have, but here it is! I hope you enjoy :)
> 
> PS: I wrote the car chase as best I could, and I hope you guys think it's alright.

 

“What?” Rose shrieked, pressing her head back into the seat.  “What do you mean someone is following us?”   


“I mean that car has been tailing us since we pulled out of the station,” John snapped.  “I have to get rid of them.  Buckle up!”

“I am buckled up, what are you-”

At that moment he revved the engine and sped up, taking them careening down the road.  Rose gripped the handle of her door, never having gone so fast in a car before.  He kept speeding up, squeaking around cars and doing things on the road that were definitely illegal.  She wanted to close her eyes, but instead she felt as though she had to keep them open in case something happened.  

He was off the handle, hands turned white as he gripped the steering wheel.  His jaw was set, she could see it every time she glanced over at him.  She felt like she had to keep looking, just to see that he was still focused in.

And oh, he was. His eyes were like steel, digging into the road in front of them.  “I’m gonna lose him,” he said through clenched teeth.

Rose had obviously never been involved in a car chase before, but it was much scarier now than it was than she had ever seen it in a film.  She glanced in the rear view mirror, not wanting the person behind them to see her, and found that the windshield was tinted.

“Who is that?” she asked John, panic rising in her voice.

“I don’t know,” he said, “Window’s tinted.”   
“Thought you might have a different angle than me,” she said, drawing her eyebrows together in what she refused to call fear.

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’, a bit of cheerfulness to ease the tension.  “It is, however, incredibly illegal to have tint there.  Now, listen to me. I know you hate to listen to me, but right now you have to, do you understand?”

He took a wide turn that made her stomach roll as her body protested the sudden movement.  She could hear the tires of her car squeal as they went and bit back a sound that wanted to creep out of her throat.

“Yes,” she said finally, “I’ll listen to you."

“If we have to get out of this car, you need to  _ run like the bloody wind,  _ do you understand me?  Take my hand so I can keep you up with me, and run.”

She felt her heart pound hard against her ribs, and she nodded. “Okay, yeah.  Is it going to come to that?”

“If we can’t lose him.”

Another turn that was very quick and lacked a turn signal, much to the disgruntled ‘beeps’ of other drivers on the road.  She closed her eyes and whimpered, not wanting to look anymore. She could hear John breathing next to her.

“Miss Tyler?”

“Yeah?”

“Open your eyes please.  If we wreck, I’m going to need you to relax your body so the air bag doesn’t kill you.”

She bit back a sob.  “The airbag wouldn’t kill me.”

“Well, probably not, but the problem is, if your body is stiff it’s easier for your bones to snap, and I’m supposed to protect you, not crack you open like a crab.”   
She could tell that he was trying to lighten the mood, but it wasn’t working. She forced her eyes forward, and tried to relax.  John seemed very tense himself, but his shoulders were settled low, nowhere near his neck.  She tried to mirror his posture and keep her eyes forward, as his speeding up and sharp turns were beginning to make her sick.

“What happens if the police chase us?” Rose blurted out.

“Then we’re in luck, because we’re the ones being chased by a possible crazy person,” John said, pulling through a red light.  Rose screamed as a horn blared at them, the car almost hitting them.  Rose looked back and saw the other car stop at the red light.  She breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Are we alright, now?” She asked. 

“Don’t get too comfortable,” John said harshly.  “I’m not slowing down.”  He pressed the steering wheel again and she cried out, feeling her body press into the car seat again.  She grabbed at the center console, needing something to hold on to.

“Mr. Smith, I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Well, go ahead, and crack a window, then.”

She rolled the window down a little, trying to catch fresh air. She kept looking the in mirror to make sure that the other car was not there.  She kept her breathing even, but felt her stomach continue to roll.  She pressed her hand to her mouth and leaned forward, putting her head between her knees.

“Don’t!” John cried out, his voice panicked, “Sit back up, sit back up!”

“Mr. Smith, I’m going to be sick!” Rose screamed.  

“I don’t care!”  he said, “You will  _ definitely  _ die if we wreck and you’re sitting like that.”  He had to keep them going, didn’t stop, and when he looked in the mirror once more, made a noise of frustration in his throat.

  
“Shit, he’s back,” he said, wrinkled his nose and scowling at the mirror. “Hold on, Miss Tyler, we’re not done yet.”

She whimpered a little and shifted uncomfortably in her seat.  It only took three turns before he was swerving and accidentally landing them in an alley.  He swore loudly, smacking the steering wheel.  “Get out, get out, get out.”

Rose jumped out of the car, shoes forgotten in her car, and bolted after him.  “How are we-”   


He reached out and grabbed her hand, tugging her out of the alley as the car that was following them pulled in behind them.  She kept up, dizzy and a little sick as she was, hitching her skirt up her thighs so she could move quickly.  Her breathing became shallow as she tried to keep up. His legs were much longer than hers, and she struggled to keep up with him on the sidewalks. She was just thankful that there were sidewalks.

“Miss Tyler, come on,” John said, as they both heard feet running behind them. The people they passed gave them odd looks but nothing else.  Rose thought it was a bit rude, that no one wondered why two people were running through the street, one of them barefoot, panicked expressions on their faces.  She kept up with John, her hand pressed against his and sweating a bit.  

He even ducked and weaved through people like they were traffic until he pulled her into a tiny restaurant.  He pulled her right through it to the women’s bathroom, where a couple women shrieked and scurried out.  John slammed the door shut and pressed his body against it.

“We can hide in a stall,” Rose suggested, “That door won’t lock.”

He came towards her again, grabbing her hand, and pulled her to the biggest stall.  “If someone comes in, we get on the lid, do you understand?”

“I’m not stupid,” She said as he shut and locked the stall door. 

He advanced on her, getting into her personal space and backing against the wall.  “Miss Tyler, I am not insinuating that you are stupid,” he said lowly, “I am doing my best to get you out of this alive.  I don’t know who was behind us, and I don’t even want to know.  I want to catch this guy with you safely at home, in no danger.”

Just then, the door opened, and before Rose could react, John had her swept up into a bridal carry and climbed the loo so that he was sitting on the tank of it with his feet on either side of the seat, her effectively in his lap. That way, they weren’t view-able from the bottom or top of the stall.  

“Rose?” A gentle male’s voice filtered out into the room, the echo haunting Rose to her very core. She must have been breathing too loud because John put his hand over her mouth with the hand that had been under her knees.  

She closed her eyes, focusing on regulating her breathing and staying still. Her hands were clenched in her lap and John’s breath puffed against the side of her head, dead quiet in the room.  She pushed a little closer to him, feeling a little safer with the solid weight of his chest against her side.    
Her heart pounded for a different reason when she realized she was  _ sitting in this man’s lap.   _ And his hands were soft where they touched her, and when his hand had held hers as they had run. Despite the danger, she felt more alive than she had in a very long time.  That caused her breathing to quicken even further, and not due to the trouble they were about to be in if he got any closer.

“Rose?” The voice called again.  He sounded dejected, like the girl he liked had just rejected his date proposal.  John’s hand clenched in the material at Rose’s back, as though it would keep her there until further notice.  Well, it kept her closer, if nothing else.   
A moment of quiet settled over them, and John literally stopped breathing next to her.  He loosened his hand from the material of her jacket and then clenched it again, somehow bringing her closer to his chest.  She couldn’t hold her breath like he could, and so she tried to slow it, tried to slow the ratcheting of her heart rate.

She wasn’t sure why his proximity was all of a sudden affecting her.  Either way, she wasn’t sure she could handle it much longer, for whatever reason.  Whatever reason her  _ stupid brain  _ wasn’t seeing fit to tell her.  And John didn’t seem to be affected at all, so how could she?  She had to calm her body down before she did something she regretted.

The door to the bathroom opened again and a man’s voice spoke. “Sir, we’ve got a complaint saying you were disturbing the peace in my restaurant, not to mention you are in the women’s bathroom. I think it would be best if you left, now.”  

It was clearly the voice of some sort of manager, and it made Rose sigh in relief against John’s palm.  He rested his forehead against her temple, apparently in relief.  She let him, feeling the relief as much as he was, if not more.  

“But, my Rose, I think she’s in here. I need to tell her I love her.”

“You can do that some other time, not in my restaurant.”  The man’s voice was stern.  “You will leave now.”

“Yes, sir,” the other man said meekly, and a few long moments after the door shut behind someone, the voice of the manager spoke out.  “You two can come out, now, you’re safe.”

Rose turned to look at John, jerking his head from hers.  She looked at him and raised her eyebrows.  He removed his hand from her mouth and helped her down. He exited the stall first, blocking Rose.

“Hello,” he said.  

“Hello,” The manager replied. “Was that man following you?”

“Yes.  I have Rose Tyler with me in here, he’s been following her around and sending her strange letters for quite a while.  As you can see, I’m a bit worried about her safety.”

“Of course, she is a public figure after all.”

Rose popped her head over John’s shoulder.  “She’s also right here,” she said.  

John looked over his shoulder and scowled at her. “Yes, well, there she is.”

The manager laughed a little and shook his head. “Well, I can offer you a free meal to compensate for the harassment,” he said.

“That would be lovely, we haven’t eaten dinner yet,” John said.

“I haven’t got any shoes on,” She said, “And that guy parked right behind us and we had to have a bit of a foot chase.”   
“Not a problem,” The manager waved them off. “I’ll show you to a table, and everything will be sorted for you.”   
“Thank you,” John said, “But first, do you know what the man looked like?”

“No,” the manager shook his head, a grim look on his face. “I didn’t.  He had sunglasses and a hat on.”

“So he knows what he’s doing is wrong,” John mumbled. He shook himself.  “Alright,” he said, “No facial features that were defining?”

“He might have been blond,” the other man said.  “That’s all I can give you, I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright,” John said, “Come on, let’s go get something to eat.”    


He led them to a table and they sat down across from each other.  John insisted on sitting facing the door, so he could see everyone coming in and going out of the restaurant.  

She finally breathed out a sigh of relief and could relax against her seat.  She would sort out the feelings that she had felt when she had been sitting in his lap.  She had no time to think about that now.  Right now she had to think about what to eat for dinner, and how they were going to get to her car afterwards.   
Nothing else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review?


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, oops, I wrote more.

Dinner was served to them with more apologies to John and Rose for having to hide in the bathroom.  Rose was more embarrassed that she wasn’t wearing any shoes.  She told John as such, curling her feet under her chair. 

He grinned. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

She shrugged, “I hate to say it, but I’m a public figure.  People expect me to hold up a certain sense of decorum.”

“Oh, my God, you are such an old woman,” he leaned forward across the table.  “Do you ever have any fun?”

“Well, you’re no fun either, Mr. Smith, if we’re going to keep score.”

He sniffed. “You just haven’t seen fun.”

She laughed a little. She felt a little better about their banter now that it was mostly ( _ Mostly _ ) friendly.  She stirred her straw in her drink and shrugged.  “Guess not.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m a little afraid to go back to the flat,” she admitted.  She wanted to rub her eyes but couldn’t with the makeup and contacts she was wearing.  She looked up to meet his eyes, which were schooled into neutrality.  

“I’ll be on your floor.  You can decide if you want me on the floor by the door or the window.  Wherever you will feel safest is where I will go,” he enunciated each word with perfection, trying to push into her mind the idea that he was hear to protect her, and he was taking his job very seriously.

She blew out her cheeks and shook her head. “I don’t know which would be better,” 

“Think it over.  I can move my blanket pile very easily.”

“What about my car?” She blurted out, then shoved a chip into her mouth, slipping lower in her seat.

“What about your car?” he asked.

“We can’t go get it,” she said, looking at him as though he had two heads.  “You… You can’t think that we can go back there, where  _ he  _ was, and get to it properly.”

She expected him to tell her how ridiculous she was, as he had never had an issue telling her that before.  He rested his elbows on the table, lacing his fingers together in front of his mouth.  “You’re right,” he said after a few moments.  “We’ll take the tube home.”

“I don’t have any shoes.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Miss Tyler, I’ll buy you shoes, but you’re right about the car.”

She chewed her bottom lip as she thought it over, because she knew he was right, after all.  “I have money,” she said, “But where can we get shoes around here?  I don’t think I’ve ever been around here before.”

“We’re not in the slums, per say,” John replied, going back to his chicken dinner.  “But you probably wouldn’t have been brought here as a child or anything.  There’s a little department store around the corner we can go to. I can carry you.”  He said the last bit sarcastically and she scowled at him.

“I can walk,” she told him smartly, crossing her arms over her chest. “You are so insufferable.”

He dabbed his face delicately with a napkin.  “Yes, I am.”

They left the restaurant, tipping anyway, as Rose said it ‘was polite’, and the two of them left, with Rose looking nervously over her shoulder every few seconds.

“Miss Tyler, relax,” John snapped, “I’m trained to hear every bloody sound around me, I’ll look out.”

“Don’t tell me to relax, it makes me want to relax less.”

“Well then, calm yourself.”

“That’s not any better.”

There was some awkward explaining at the department store surrounding Rose’s bare feet, but John didn’t want to give away the fact that they were running from someone just in case the person who they were running from came looking for them.  It was unlikely, but it was something that they had to consider anyway.  She left the store with a new pair of tennis shoes, which were a bit ridiculous with the rest of her outfit, but she didn't really care.  

They took the Tube home, and Rose felt herself getting more and more anxious as time went on.  Her shoulders rose up towards her neck in a defensive stance until she felt two hands push them back down.

“You need to not wear all your emotions on your sleeve,” John said close to her ear.  “It’s admirable and can make you seem like a very passionate individual, but the problem is it also makes you more vulnerable.”  

She sighed and tried to follow his instructions, because somewhere deep down inside herself, she knew he was right. She shrugged his hands off her shoulders, not sure she wanted him touching her if he wasn’t pulling her out of the way of a bullet.  It would all seem pointless in the end, all the glances she thought felt a little more loaded than they ever had before. 

All of a sudden, nothing between them felt normal, and it was almost as irritating as the fighting.  She didn’t understand it and she didn't know what to do when she didn’t understand things, especially when it came to men. They might as well be aliens, as far as she was concerned.

Once home, John made her wait in the foyer while he looked in all the rooms and locked everything down.  He came back out to her and smiled at her.  “All clear,” He announced, removing the gun from the inside of his ankle.  “You might want to catch some rest,” he said, “Since we have to get up and go get your car.”

“Oh, yeah,” she said, running her fingers through her hair. “You’re right.”

He raised his eyebrows at her. “What?  You’re not going to fight me about it?  Tell me that I’m stupid, or something?”

“Not tonight,” she said, brushing past him towards the hallway, “I don’t have the energy.”

They took turns showering, since her feet were absolutely disgusting form having been all over every floor in London, and all the running he’d done in all his layers made him sticky and disgusting.

Rose was sitting on her bed reading a book when John entered the room, moving to the other side of the door to shut and lock it. For good measure, he put her desk chair under the doorknob.  He looked down at the mess of pillows and blankets he was sleeping in.  He pushed a hand through his hair, mussing it up fantastically. 

“Where do you want me?” He asked, gesturing down at the makeshift bed.  

She shrugged, “You’re the expert on the situation,” she said, “Where do you think is best?”

“Next to the window.”  

“Okay, then.”

They situated themselves and Rose lay down, her head landing with a ‘thump’ on the pillows.  She had her arms spread out and was staring up at the ceiling.  There were so many things running through her head, most of them having to do with John, and whatever had happened today.  

Her brain didn’t make any sense.  She suddenly felt guilty for John having to sleep on the floor.  Usually, she’d let him with no further thoughts on the matter herself.  But, on the other hand, maybe he was showing her a more human side of himself that he hadn’t been bothered to see before.  She rolled over on her side and stared down at him, her glasses perched firmly on her face.  

“Hello,” he said, glancing up from his bed to look at her.  “Do you need something?”

She opened her mouth and then closed it again. “I don’t know.”

“Well, let me know when you figure it out, Miss Tyler.”

“Okay,” She rolled onto her back again, and neither of them spoke for awhile.  The sounds of the night, shouts of the drunk and they stumbled home.  Rose had realized it was so late, but she supposed such an evening would escape her without her realizing. She huffed a little and folded up her glasses, setting them on the side table.  

“Are you alright?” John asked, sounding amused.

“Yeah,” She replied, “Just getting comfortable,” she replied, staring up into the ceiling.   


He snorted. “What, do you want to talk about your feelings or something?”

“No,” She scowled at nothing, feeling annoyed at him. Whatever had happened in the restaurant was easily past her now and she was glad she hadn’t acted upon them.  She pulled her covers up and turned to face the door, closing her eyes.  

John rustled about on the floor, clearly uncomfortable. Had he been this uncomfortable last night, or was she too caught up in her own thoughts about everything to notice?  Should she even feel guilty?  So many thoughts were warring inside her own mind and she wasn’t sure what to think.  

He shifted and grunted and she turned and looked over the side of her bed at him. “Are you okay?” She asked him.

“Yeah,” he mimicked her, “Just getting comfortable."

She scowled at him. “I’m trying to be nice to you.  Sorry for inconveniencing you.”

“You don’t inconvenience me.”

“Yes, I know, I’m a paycheck.”   
He made a ‘humph’ sound that was mildly irritated and distressed. “Whatever you want to believe, Miss Tyler.”

Fine, then.  Goodnight, Mr. Smith.”

“Goodnight.”

They were quiet, save for John shifting some more, until there was some shuffling outside of Rose’s flat.  John sat up and reached onto the bed.  It was clear that his motion was meant to stop Rose from sitting up, and it worked, as his hand landed on her thigh and she was positively rooted to the spot.  

“Someone’s outside,” Was all he said before he tackled Rose down, pulling Rose over the bed until they both landed with a ‘oof’ on the other side of the bed.  She took some of her covers with her and it simply looked like someone had left her bedroom in a hurry, or no one had made the bed that morning.  

They shifted so they lay side by side next to the bed, out of view of anyone who happened to peer in.  Rose heard someone at her window and closed her eyes, biting her lip to keep quiet.  She felt John’s breath on her ear as he whispered softly, “Tomorrow night, we take a different car and we go to my flat.”

She couldn’t do anything but nod.  This was how it had to be.  This is how her life would be until they caught the guy who was stalking her or she died.  And going to John’s flat would be a good idea, especially if they went in a car no one would know. 

“Maybe you should look through the window,” Rose whispered.

He shushed her quietly. “No,” he disagreed.  “I can’t do that.  He’ll go mad with envy, that’s his whole thing.”

There was movement away from the window and they waited for several moments. John was listening for sounds at the door, to see if the man was going to try and get in.  Rose was waiting to see if he was going to come back to the window. Their minds were very different, thinking either logically or emotionally.  It was difficult to separate things, and Rose was having a lot of trouble concentrating with his body next to hers, and she wasn’t quite sure why.

She had suspicions, of course, but not any that she was willing to think about.

They were on the floor for about an hour before John peered over the bed.  He crept up, motioning for Rose to stay down, and moved around the bed to look out the window.  A few moments passed full of stress and she felt her heart pounding wildly against her chest.

“All clear,” he said, his voice at full volume.

She didn’t quite believe him, and his voice struck through her brain. “I’m fine here,” she said. 

“Alright, no, you can’t sleep there.”

“Yes I can. I don’t want anyone looking at me.”

“Your curtains are fairly thick. I’m not even sure how that first picture-”   
“I don’t care, I’m staying here.”

“Well, fine then.”  He hesitated. “I think it might be best if you don’t go into work tomorrow.”

“What?!” she sat up. “I never miss work.”

“I know, but-”

She held up a hand. “And I don’t start now, even with whatever’s going on now.”

“Miss Tyler, please.”

“No, Mr. Smith. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”  She clambered back onto the bed. “You protect me. You don’t tell me what to do.”  She flopped onto her side, away from him.  He huffed out a sigh and laid down back in his nest of pillows and blankets.     
“You can think that all you want, Miss Tyler. I don’t think it’s true."

"Well, goodnight."

Regardless of what Rose Tyler thought was best for her, it would occur to her later that sometimes Mr. Smith knew best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review?


	13. Chapter 13

The next day, John had Rose pack an overnight bag, and told her that they were going to his flat that night instead of hers.  It was going to be a weekend tomorrow, and he told her he really didn't want her leaving the house.  Of course, Rose rarely left the house on the weekend, so that wasn’t going to be a problem, really.  

“And what do you expect me to do?” She asked, crossing her arms. “I don’t-”

“Just pack the bag and do as I say,” He snapped, “I don’t have time to argue with you, Miss Tyler.”

It was also decided, against Rose’s will, that they would be driving his car, as her red car was too ‘conspicuous’ and he didn’t want them to be seen. And even if they were seen, it would be in an unfamiliar car.  Hopefully, it would throw the man after Rose so that she would at least be safe for a night.  If things went well, John thought grimly, he was going to have to put her up in his flat.  

He did not want to do that.

Rose was at work for ten minutes before Jack approached them carefully.  She narrowed her eyes at his skittish behavior.  “Why are you looking at me like that?” She snapped.

“Letter for you,” Jack said, handing it to John instead of Rose, who grimaced as he took it.  

“I’ve just realized something,” he said.

“What?” Rose asked. 

“Um.  We left your car.”   


“And?”

“The equipment from the station was in there.”

In her excitement, or rather, the terror, Rose had forgotten all about it. She tilted her head back and groaned in anguish.  “So what you’re saying is that if anybody calls-”

“We can’t track it.”

John rubbed his forehead with his pointer finger and thumb.  “I can’t believe I did that,” he said, clearly chastising himself. 

She closed her eyes and sighed slowly. “I don’t- We were a bit  _ busy  _ at the time, John,” She snapped. “I don’t know what else we could’ve done.”

“It’s my fault we turned into that alleyway. If we hadn’t, we wouldn’t have had to run anywhere at all.”

“We were under a lot of pressure at the time,” Rose replied, “Now let’s just go open this stupid letter.”

Jack had slid away from the conversation once the yelling began.  Rose looked the letter over and stuffed it in her jacket as she went to the lift, John tagging along close behind. It was clear that he was frustrated with himself, and she didn't have the time to wallow in  _ his  _ self pity. 

The letter was opened before Rose even reached her office.  As she only had one free hand, she ripped it open with her teeth and spit out the edge of the envelope before pulling the letter out.  She stood in the hallway, opening it up.  Her knees went weak when she saw what was inside, she dropped her suitcase, and John reacted quickly so that he could catch her about the waist to keep her from falling down.

“What is it?” he asked, opening her office door and shutting and locking it behind them once he led her inside and brought their bags in as well.  

She stumbled to the couch and sat down, spreading the letter out on her lap.  “‘My dearest Rose,’” she read, her voice trembling, “‘You were alone last night, or so I thought.  But you were not home either.  Were you at his house this night?  Do you lay in his bed now?  I am a jealous man, Rose.  You should not ignore me the way you do’.  The bottom is scratched out.”

John sat next to her on the couch, his arm braced on the couch behind her.  He looked at the paper and shook his head.  “What else?  What did you see?”

She pulled a photo out from behind the letter.  It was a picture of Rose’s empty bed, her covers sprawled about.  Neither John nor Rose were in the picture.

“How is he getting these developed so fast?” Rose asked on a whisper.

“He might have a way to do it in his house,” John replied, “A developer, of some sort.  Very sound, when you think about it.  

“But  _ why?”  _ Rose asked.  “Neither of us were in the bed.”

“Reason for him to be suspicious of his rival.”  John’s mouth was set in a grim line.  “And, of course, you’ll be at mine tonight, so he won’t be able to find us.”

Rose got to her feet, feeling panic course through her blood. “You don’t know that,” she said, “You really don’t.  Anything that happens could be connected. He could follow us again, and-”

Much to her surprise, he pulled her around by the shoulder and stared down into her eyes as his fingers dug into the material of her jacket.  “I will not let him hurt you.  You don’t seem to  _ get  _ that.  I carry a gun in my trousers to keep you safe, and I  _ will  _ keep you safe.”  He let her go, the shock in her eyes palpable.  He suddenly seemed to feel uncomfortable and cleared his throat, looking around at nothing and shoving his hands in his pockets.  “We’ll be fine.”

She nodded, because there was nothing else to do when she was in such shock.  “I have work to do,” she said in a rushed voice, and hurried away from him.  Of course, he was close behind, as he had to be, but he let her have her space to some extent.  He had to, really, because she seemed flustered and he wasn’t sure why.

It struck him odd, how fascinated he was with her behavior.  Realistically, it was normal that he should be, but he wanted to know, all of a sudden, how certain things would make her react.  He shut the door to her office and followed her to the lift, feeling a bit disoriented, and not sure when that had happened.    
He shook it, his regular disposition settling back over him.  He had to look out for himself, look out for Rose, and keep those two things very separate.  It was his job and his personal life that he had trouble separating those on occasion.  He wasn’t sure why this was the part that needed separating, though.  

The broadcast went smoothly, as it usually did, though Rose was a little shaky during it.  Martha tried to soothe her friend during the commercial breaks, but Rose seemed shaken on a whole other level.  

Right after they signed off, Rose got to her feet and shuffled her papers about.  “I think I need to go,” she said, folding her manilla folder up with the papers inside and looked up at John.  “Time to go?”

“If you’d like.  Do you have work to do?” he asked. 

Rose nodded.  “Yeah, but I can bring it… Home, with us.”  She caught herself from saying ‘your flat’ just to protect herself.  In case her stalker was listening in somehow.

“Alright, let’s go get your things from upstairs,” John said, beckoning her over.  She hugged Martha goodbye and started towards the lift.  John went after her, and Jack followed close behind.  The two men exchanged a worried look before all three of them boarded the lift.

“Oh, God, what, Jack?” Rose snapped.

Jack’s mouth was set into a grim line, a stark contrast from his usual smiling, happy, face.  He leaned back against the wall of the lift.  “You’re going to John’s?”

“Yes,” Rose replied impatiently.

“I have a suggestion, and I don’t want either of you to kill me, but first I have a question,” Jack said quickly, running it all together, almost as if it was one word.

“What?” John asked, crossing his arms over his chest.  He was curious to say the least, as he had never, in his short experience,seen Jack look this worried.  

Jack ran his hand through his hair, and it fell back perfectly into place.  “I think you two should share the bed.”

“What?!” Both John and Rose shrieked, moving away from each other as though on auto pilot.  Jack almost laughed at it, and probably would have, if the situation wasn’t so dangerous.  

“Think about it,” Jack said, “Anyone who wants to get to Rose will have to literally go through you, John.  Not to mention it would probably make you both feel a little safer, on some level.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Jack, I know you don’t understand this, because you’ll share a bed with anything that has a pulse, but it’s a really intimate thing.”

Jack had to smile at her comment.  “Rose, as much as I agree with you, I still think my idea stands.”

John tried to think it through logically, but was having trouble.  He had a large bed, that much was very true, but was it big enough for them to be separate from each other?  If they touched at all, he’d be tense all night, and he wouldn’t be able to protect her in the morning. That wasn’t really something he wanted to mess with.  

Rose, on the other hand, was thinking about it as a woman thinks about things like that. A simple thought of ‘would he hold me?’ was enough to make an odd feeling stir in her stomach and she felt as though she was about to throw up.

“You’re not just saying that because you’re a total creep, right Jack?” Rose asked, crossing her arms.

The lift let out a cheerful ‘ding’ and the doors opened. The three walked to Rose’s office as Jack spoke.

“No, I’m not. I think the both of you need to trust each other on a deeper level, I think that it would serve both of you well.  It would be very easy to keep her safe if you were literally right next to her, not to mention easier on your back, Mr. Smith.”

John set his jaw.  He did not want to let his emotions betray themselves, because, truth be told, he wasn’t sure what his emotions were. 

“Fine,” he said finally, “Logically, it’s sound.”

Rose stared at him in shock. She hadn’t expected him to agree at all.  “You don’t think I’m too gross for that?”

John rolled his eyes. “My God, Miss Tyler, keep on fishing for compliments.”

She furrowed her brows at him. ‘I don’t need to fish for compliments, least of all from you,” she replied as she walked to her desk and rooted about for all the work she needed.  

Jack stared at the two of them in amusement.  They were truly adorable.  

“Well, now that that’s sorted, I’ll see the two of you tomorrow,” he said.  “Unless,” he paused, hopefully, “Rose, you should take a day off.”

“No.  I don’t take days off.”

“You do now. I’m ordering it.”

“But, Jack-”

“Go visit your family, or stay in John’s flat, stay safe. I don’t care. I just don’t want you here.  Well, I do, of course, but this is way more important.  Donna will be here day after tomorrow, you can come back then.  Got it?”

Rose wanted to argue, but Jack was her supervisor, and she knew that realistically, she couldn’t do it.  Her shoulders sagged in defeat.  “Okay.”

Jack groaned in dismay. “Oh, don’t be like that.” he walked over to her and pulled her into a hug, which she gladly returned, “I just want you safe, Rose.”

“I know,” she replied, not glancing at John over Jack’s shoulder.  “Thanks.”

“I’ll take your place on the broadcast, everything will be fine.” Jack promised, rubbing her back a little before pulling away. “Both of you, get some rest tonight.  Please?”

John nodded tersely, and Rose nodded as well, forcing a tight smile.  Jack patted her cheek happily.

“There’s my girl,” he said.  “See you the day after tomorrow.  Got it?  _ Day after.” _

He shook his finger at them as he left, leaving John and Rose to take the awkward journey home. 

It weighed on her all night, the idea of sharing a bed with him, even as he ordered them a pizza and as they took turns in his shower.  She wasn’t sure if she felt comfortable doing it, but if it was for her safety, than that was what she wanted.

His flat was similar to hers, if a bit smaller, and when he led her back to his room, she was surprised with how barren it was. 

“You don’t have any things?” Rose asked.

“I have loads of things,” John said, shoving her suitcase under his bed.  “You just haven’t seen all of them.”

“Not up. Not on the walls.  Or on your dresser.”

“Blimey, did I analyze your room?”

“No,” she said, “But it’s natural to be curious about stuff like that, don’t you think?”

He shrugged, the muscle of his shoulder shifting beneath the grey of his t-shirt.  “I suppose,” he reluctantly agreed, “Doesn’t make it your business.”

“So you won’t tell me?” 

“No.”

She bit her lip and nodded.  “Fine. Be that way. What side?”

“Excuse me?”

“What side?  Of the bed?”

“I sleep closest to the door.” 

“Why?’

He rolled his eyes. “Because, Miss Tyler, if somebody comes in here and I’m on my back facing the door, they have to come through me to get to you that way, and they’ll have to come at my face to attack through the window, which they won’t.”  He pulled a black sheet down from his closet and set about hanging it over the window in his room. 

“Why do you have-”

“For exactly this.  No sane person uses black sheets.”

She decided it was best to keep her mouth shut on that one.  She turned down the covers on the bed on the side closest to the window and got in, sitting there a bit awkwardly.  He finished setting up the sheet with clothespins and then got in on the other side of the bed.  Both of them sat a little awkwardly. 

“I don’t care what Jack says, this is uncomfortable,” Rose said. 

“I know, Miss Tyler.”

She shifted to lay down, and handed him her glasses.  He took them and put them on his nightstand and lay down on his back, tugging the covers over both of them.  Rose turned to look at him for just a moment.

“It’s like a sleepover,” she whispered, in an attempt to make him laugh.

He did, and she turned on her side, facing away from him. She sighed and closed her eyes, letting herself fall asleep.  

And then, quite unpredictably, she woke up in the middle of the night with his nose pressed to her neck and his arm wrapped around her waist.  He was definitely asleep, his breath heavy against the back of her neck and the collar of her shirt.  

She closed her eyes against the darkness.    
When had things gotten so complicated?


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because all tension must break

She couldn't move.  Not with him wrapped around her like this. And she wasn't even sure she wanted to. 

In his sleep, he shifted, grunting a little, and sucked closer to her, lips brushing her neck. She let her mouth open on a wordless gasp, but she had a feeling that he was a light sleeper. 

Years seemed to pass, where she was trapped with his leg over hers and his arms around her.  She tried to ignore it and go back to sleep, but it was literally impossible. She felt as though she was going to explode.  All it would take was for her to flip over, make them nose to nose, and then-

He slowly started to wake up, and when he did, jerked away from her so that he was sitting up on the bed. “Sorry,” he said stiffly, lacing his fingers together in his lap. 

She sat up too and looked over to face him. “It's okay,” she told him. 

“I'll just.  I'll take the floor.  Not molest you again,” He started to shuffle off of the bed when she reached over and grabbed him by the forearm. She wasn't sure when she'd decided to do it, but all of a sudden it had seemed to be really important to touch him again. Her back felt cold without his touch. 

“Don't,” she said, “Stay here.”

He struggled for a moment. “I can't-”

“It's safer,” she insisted. “You heard what Jack said. And you know he's right.”

He looked down at where her hand was holding him, his breathing ragged for some unexplained reason. “I don't… I shouldn't have been touching you.”

“You were sleeping. Not like you could help it,” Rose pointed out.  “Not like I told you to stop.”

“It's still inappropriate.”  He protested, clearly frustrated with himself. 

“Then why are you breathing so hard?” She asked, her voice low. 

The way he looked at her was utterly helpless, like he couldn't even think of the reason himself. Rose, however, was a woman and knew how men operated, what they wanted. 

She also knew what she wanted, and it was about time she decided. 

With a twist of her hips and a shift of weight she was in his lap. He gasped and his eyes fluttered closed, as he was obviously not expecting such a turn of events. 

“Miss Tyler-”

“Call me Rose,” she purred, leaning towards him. 

His hands were at her waist, but he didn't seem to know what to do with them. “You- I- You're just afraid, that's all, and you're taking emotions and chemicals you don't know what to do with, and you’re putting them in-”

A look from her cut him off.  “We've been pretending,” she said softly, “Since the night we opened up to each other. I'm tired of it.”

He looked like he wanted to speak but she kissed him and all of a sudden responding to her words didn't seem terribly important. His hand ran up her back, under her shirt, and she moved closer to him on his lap.  

Her arms wrapped all the way around his neck, pulling him close.  He curled his fingers into her skin, touching her as though she was the last woman he'd ever see again. She opened her mouth over his and he let out a shuddering sigh, pulling her right up against his chest. 

She'd had boyfriends before, she'd kissed people before, but it had never felt like this. This consumed her with something she wasn't sure she could even begin to understand. And that was alright, because as long as it felt like this, she could never doubt it. 

After several moments in which Rose completely lost herself, he pulled away. “I can't,” he said through gritted teeth.

She ran her hands through his hair, and she marveled at how good it felt. His eyes fell shut, dark eyelashes touching his cheek. She leaned close to him again, voice dropping as she spoke against his lips. “What's wrong?”

“You're my boss.”

“Yes.”

She wasn't sure what about that response stirred something in him, but it was only a moment before he flipped them on the bed, tangling them in the sheets and pinning her down.  He only kissed her once, easy and slow, before pulling away from her, gasping. She tilted up and latched her mouth onto his neck, trying to get him closer. 

His hands weren't touching her, but he pressed his nose to her shoulder, ragged breath pushing through her t-shirt to her skin. 

Finally, it seemed like he was done being passive. He reached down and grabbed her leg, hitching it over his hip and pressing closer to her. He let out a whimper and raised himself up to kiss her again, his free hand cupping her cheek in a gentle expression she had never expected from him. 

Rose threaded her hands into his hair and curled her fingers, making him jolt. She wrapped her other leg around him and pulled him even closer, wondering how it was possible that they were still two separate people. 

He kissed down her neck to her shoulder. He nudged aside the top hem of her top to move down and suck on the skin of her chest. 

He pulled back and rested his forehead against her heaving chest, catching his breath. 

This,  _ this  _ was what she wanted from him. And she wasn't sure why or how, but it felt right.  She lay back, trying to get him to look at her. 

“Mr. Smith?”

He sat back on his heels, looking down at her, his eyes blown wide, brown almost completely obscured by his pupils. The black sheet he'd put over his window made it very hard to see his face. 

She sat up under him and reached out to cup his cheek. “Don't you see what we've become?” She whispered. “I've been fighting it for days and I don't think I want to anymore.”

His eyes searched hers with an urgency that confused her. What about this was so hard? Was she that repulsive?

She couldn't move her hand from him, needing to touch him, even as he was perched over her calves.

They were at a standoff, she knew that. It was very clear to see that there was tension between them that wouldn't be resolved without a discussion or an action of some sort.  She wanted to lean for him, go to him again, but he was just so stiff and upset.She didn't want to betray the fragile trust that was starting to form between them.

“I just can't,” he whispered, voice clearly on edge.

“Why?” She asked, almost begging to know. She didn't understand, but she wanted to.

He shook his head and pulled her hand away from his cheek, but didn't release it, holding it in the space between them.  “I don't deserve it,” he said softly.

“Why would you say that?” She demanded.  “Why would you think you don't deserve-”

“Because of my parents,” he snapped, releasing her hand. “I don't  _ deserve  _ to be happy, not after what happened to them.”

She furrowed her brows at him.  “You aren't your parents. Just like I'm not mine.”

That jolted him. “Oh, my God,” he scrubbed his hands over his face and practically leapt out of the bed. “Oh, my God, you're Rose Tyler.”

Her heart sank. That was what this was all about?  Her being an heiress? “Oh.”

“No, that's not what I mean!”

“It's fine,” she said tersely. “We can still share the bed, but I won't come near you again. I'm sorry.”  She pulled the covers up and laid down on her side, facing away from his side of the bed.

“That's  _ not  _ what I meant,” he said softly, his voice soft and sad. She was angry at him now, though, so she wasn't about to let him off with a sad little sigh and some shuffling feet.

He got in the bed next to her, pulling the covers up once more. He faced her, she could sense it, and logically it was because she knew he needed to be near her and watching her to protect her.

Emotionally, she had a feeling he just wanted to keep an eye on her.

She drifted off again, still stewing with anger.

When she woke up he was wrapped around her again. It felt too good, too perfect, his body against hers, so she shook him off her and climbed out of bed to get ready. Once she shoved her glasses on her face, she looked down at him. Not fair that he was that gorgeous. She wanted to crawl back in bed with him and channel her anger into something else.

Although, that might be what she had wanted since the beginning, and was too afraid to address.

She unlocked the door to his room and slipped to the loo, hoping he hadn't heard her leave.  He'd certainly be angry with her for not keeping him with her in the flat.

Well, he could be as angry as he wanted to be. He was the one that had pushed her away last night.

To take her mind off of it, she rang her mother, who was, in short, very happy to hear from her.

“Rose! You alright?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Rose said, pulling out some things that she'd left in the bathroom the previous night. “Just wondering if I could come up for dinner?”

“Of course!” Jackie said excitedly, “you can come round around five, we’ll have a plate for you and that bodyguard of yours.”

She grimaced. “Yeah, we’ll come by then,” she said.

The two of them chatted as Rose put her makeup on until there was a gentle tapping at the bathroom door.

“Mum?  I've gotta go, Mr. Smith’s just got up. I'll see you tonight.”

“Alright. See you then, love.”

Rose hung up and looked at herself in the mirror. Her makeup was finished and she thought her hair looked fine, or at least, fine enough.  She opened the door and saw John looking back at her, looking very dejected indeed.

“Good morning, Mr. Smith,” she said, going back to the sink to brush her hair.

“I think we should talk,” John said, his voice with a bit of an edge on it.

Rose raised her eyebrows. “About what exactly?” She asked, trying to remain nonchalant.

“About… about-” he was struggling, she could see it, but at this point, she wasn't going to help him. “About last night.”

“It's pretty clear to me what happened, Mr. Smith,” she said, settling a hand on her hip.  “And I don't want to talk about it any more.”

The mask she had become so used to settled back over his face. “Well, I’d still like to talk about it.”

“Later. Tonight we’re going to dinner with my mother.”

He looked like a deer in headlights, his eyes wide.  “Might’ve expected something like that from your day off,” he said, “That’s fine.”  

It was her turn to look alarmed when he got very close to her and pointed his finger at her face. “I’m not done talking.”

“Well.  I am,” she said, her voice a little stilted.

“You’re in my home,” he replied.  “I’ll fix some breakfast.”  

She leaned against the counter, her heart pounding. This really wasn’t fair.  Now even his proximity was enough to rile her up, to get her body to scream at her to go to him and forgive him for whatever he had said the night before.  

This wasn’t fair.  She wasn’t sure when her opinion of him had changed, when she had started thinking about him in a romantic way, but he had showed some kindness that he hadn’t shown before.  His love for his parents, his genuine willingness to protect her.  It had shattered her heart in a way she hadn’t been willing to acknowledge.

And he’d kissed her back.

Which meant, on some level, that he wanted her in his life, in more than just an employer.  He’d responded to her kiss and initiated some of his own… Physical affections.  She wished he had kept going, wished he hadn’t given in to his survivor’s guilt.

But apparently, her being Rose Tyler, Vitex heiress and successful news anchor was too much for him.  She was sick of men having that reaction.  

He wanted to explain.  He wanted to say something.  In her heart, she wondered if he wanted to tell her that he wanted her.  Or, he wanted to explain in more detail why nothing could ever happen between them.  

She looked at herself in the mirror.  She was pretty enough.  So she thought.  She furrowed her brows at her own reflection. A man had never made her feel this way before. She didn’t  _ need  _ him, not by any means, but she also didn’t really want to live without him.

She’d seen his softer side, seen him take care of her.  He’d held her in the restaurant, and yes, it had been to keep her safe, but it  _ ignited  _ her, and she wasn’t willing to let that go.  Not just yet.

She closed her eyes.  She’d wait.  She’d wait until after they had dinner with her mum, and then she would talk to him.  

Until then, a little cold shoulder didn’t hurt any man. Absence made the heart grow fonder, after all.  Rose looked in the mirror again.  And there was nothing she did better than a little bit of acting coy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review?


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy Easter to all who celebrate it!!! For your present I give you............... Suffering. 
> 
> (there's about 2 chapters left)

Rose ignored John as she got ready for dinner with her parents.  She knew he wasn’t a normal man in terms of tempting, and she was planning on tempting him a little bit, at least. She wanted him to want her, and had a feeling that he did.  

So, her outfit of choice was a tea-length blue dress with a white wrap.  Not quite too fancy for dinner with her parents, but coming quite close.  She wore white heels with it as well, hoping it would be enough to spur him into action.  

“Miss Tyler?” he called through his flat, and he peeked around the door to the bathroom.  “What time would you like to leave?”

“About half an hour,” she replied, as she applied eyeliner to the corner of her eyes.  “Are you ready?”

“Yes."

She looked over at him and saw the dark suit he was wearing.  He wore chucks with a three piece, which, she supposed, wasn’t that weird. Especially when his hair looked that good.  She swallowed and turned back to the mirror.

“Alright,” she said, “I’ll be down to the car in a bit.”

“Well, don’t think I’m not walking to the car with you, Miss Tyler.”

“Are we getting my car after dinner?”

“No.”

“What?”

“I spoke to your father.  They went to get your car this afternoon, so as not to endanger you, which means tomorrow we will have the equipment and your car, but you won’t be using that car.”  He crossed his arms as she stared at him.  She had not been expecting a word that had come out of his mouth.

She turned fully to face him, leaning her hand on the counter and the other hand on her hip.  “You called my dad?”

He furrowed his brows at her. “Yes.  What’s wrong with that?”

She shook her head and laughed. “Nothing. Don’t even worry about it.”

“Are we back to fighting?” he snapped, “Is that what this is?”

“Well, clearly, you don’t want anything else!” She shouted, slamming her eyeliner down.  “So I will keep my disgusting self away from you!”

He reached forwards and grabbed her by the upper arm, tugging her towards him. “Don’t,” he hissed. “Of all things, Miss Tyler, you are not disgusting.  We will talk about this later, when we don’t have to worry about anything getting in the way.  Right now we are going to dinner with your parents and I am going to express to them what an excellent job I am doing at protecting you.”  His eyes searched hers, burning.  He opened his mouth, made an odd sort of squeaking sound as though he wanted to say something that he couldn’t actually say, and then he released her, snapping his mouth shut.

She crossed her arms, feeling her heart racing and trying to pretend that it wasn’t.  “I- what were you going to say?”

“Not important.  Get ready.”

She clenched her fists as he walked away from her, his body tense.  She wanted to go after him, wanted to push him against a wall and demand to know what he meant by that.  She wanted to snog him until neither of them could bear to leave the house. 

She wanted to reassure him that he could tell her all about his past, about his parents, that he  _ did  _ deserve affection, and…. 

It was quite possible, she realized, that she might be in love with him.

Fighting back unbidden tears, she finished touching up her makeup and went out to the living area to meet John.  He was sat on the couch, ankle over his knee, and was staring at the telly.  He glanced up at her when she entered the room but returned his gaze to the screen.

“I thought you had a house,” she blurted out.

He furrowed his brows at her.  “What did you say?”

“Your parents’ house.  I thought they left it to you.”

“They did,” he responded, turning the television off and standing up to get his keys. “I don’t stay there.”

“Why not?”

“Miss Tyler, if your parents were killed in cold blood, would you want to live in their mansion?”  His question was so blunt, so devoid of emotion.  

She felt her shoulders slump. “No, I suppose I wouldn’t,” she said quietly, “Not for awhile anyway.”

“Then that makes my point all on its own, doesn’t it?” he asked softly.  

“Yes.”

It was these moments of tenderness that confused her.  Made her want him even more. In a sort of twisted sense, it made him more desirable, when she could see past the mask he put up for everyone around him. She suspected even Donna and Sarah Jane rarely saw this side of him, and it warmed her. 

“Let’s go,” he said gruffly, and with that, they were off to her parents’ flat, not saying a word to each other the whole way.  She turned the radio on halfway through the drive when it became clear that he wasn’t planning on speaking to her.  Of course, that was because the only way their ‘talk’ could go meant either a slap or a fit of furious snogging in the backseat and after either they would not be presentable to Rose’s parents. 

Jackie did not take a liking to John when he came through the door.  He shook her hand and then shook Pete’s.  Little Tony walked up to John and solemnly stuck his hand out. 

“Hello, sir,” John said seriously, shaking Tony’s hand.  “May I ask your name?”

“Anthony Tyler.” 

“A fine name.”

Jackie seemed to like him a bit better after that. Unfortunately, it was almost the extent of anything he said the whole night, as he sat and ate quietly while the family talked.  

“So everything’s going alright?” Jackie asked urgently.

Rose nodded. “Jack just wanted me to take a day off from work,” she said, “But that’s all.”

“John?  How are things?” Pete needled a bit, raising his eyebrows at John.

“They’re fine,” John reassured him. “I am doing my very best to keep your daughter safe.”  His eyes drifted to Rose as he spoke, but he couldn’t seem to keep his gaze on her for very long.

Jackie opened her mouth to speak when there was the sound of a camera clicking.  

“Ah.  Miss Tyler, please stand up and get behind me, if you please,” he said, standing up and retreating to the far wall, tugging her with him until she was behind him.  “Mrs. Tyler, pick up your son and stay away from us.”

Rose laid a hand on his shoulder, only to find him stiff and unmoving, very different from her own shaking fingers. 

“Where are you?” John shouted, “You can’t be outside, the camera’s not that loud.  Come out!”

A curtain shifted aside, and a man with blond hair and shifting eyes stepped out from behind it.  Jackie gasped, unsure how she hadn’t seen the curtain move. 

“Can I talk to my Rose, please?” the man asked.  

“What’s your name?” John demanded, and Rose felt him poke something back into her hip. Realizing it was his phone and that was a silent gesture to get in touch with Sarah Jane, she took the phone and hurriedly texted her behind John’s back, out of sight.  It would be too unsafe to call, and Sarah Jane would know what to do.

“Harry Saxon.  May I see Rose now?”  He held the camera in front of him, and looked like the moment Rose stepped out he was planning on taking another picture.  

“Not yet, Harry,” John said, “Can you tell me why you’ve been taking pictures of Miss Tyler?”

Harry’s face looked like it was about to burn, his expression going from sweet and harmless to a threatening snarl.  “You are the man that has been in her home.”

“Yes, I am.”  John was so calm and collected that it was hard to believe that he was a man that could lose his temper.  “And you’re scaring her.  If you love her, why would you scare her like this?”

“She understands,” Harry said, “She knows how much I love her.  I need to see her now, please.”

John’s phone popped a text message from Sarah Jane. 

_ On my way with backup. Stay put. _

She slid the phone back into John’s hand and he smoothly pocketed it.  

“Rose?”

Rose lifted her head upon Harry’s voice calling for her.  She settled her hand back on John’s shoulder and made eye contact, but ignored him.  She didn’t want to engage him in conversation.  He was staring at her too intently, and it made her uncomfortable.

“Rose, talk to me!” He shrieked, and pulled a gun from his belt, dropping his camera so it hung around his neck.  Rose gasped.  

“Talk to him, Miss Tyler,” John said lowly, his voice shaking just a bit.

“Why do you ignore my letters?” Harry asked, his gun hand shaking.  

Rose swallowed, “Well, you see, Harry, they scare me a bit,” she said softly.  “Why do you scratch off the bottoms of them all?”

Harry let out a sob, “Because I don’t know if you’re ready for that step in our relationship.”

“What do you mean?” Rose asked, forcing herself not to look over at her family.  “Why wouldn’t I be ready?”   


He looked mournful. “I have to kill you, Rose.”

“No,” John said firmly.     


“I have to kill her so that she doesn’t run off and tart about with men like you!” Harry shouted, his finger now on the trigger. “She has to be with me, forever.  I need her to be with me forever.  And she won’t unless… Unless she’s dead.  Come to me, my love. Let me touch your cheek and while it is still warm.  I hate you sleeping in a home with this man!”

“Stop,” John said, his voice rock hard, cutting through Harry’s voice.  “Think about this, Harry, it’s ridiculous.”

He wanted to reach down and grab his gun, but couldn’t without exposing Rose’s torso to the man, and then he’d have a clear shot.  So he pulled up his leg and brought his ankle to his hand, pulling the gun from his holster.  He looked over at Harry and aimed his gun at him. 

“Harry.  Put the gun down.”

“NO!”

Sarah Jane kicked the door down with five other officers, shouting “Police!” and everyone’s attention was drawn to her.  Everyone except Harry.

John had turned, and it was very lucky that he did, since Harry shot him twice in the right side of his back.  Unable to keep himself upright, he leaned into Rose, wrapping an arm around her waist.  “Miss Tyler,” he said urgently, “Stay behind me.”  he said through gritted teeth, feeling pain shoot through him.

She grabbed him to help him stand up, realizing what had happened to him when she saw blood pouring from his jacket, as one of Sarah Jane’s men tackled Harry to the ground.  He struggled and tried to fire off at them, but the gun was ripped from him before he could do any more damage.     
Rose turned John to face her and cupped a hand under his jaw. “John, look at me, it’s going to be alright, just focus on me.”

His eyes were unfocused and he swallowed hard.  “Miss Tyler, I’m about to fall, and you’re going to have to come down with me.”

He collapsed then, pulling Rose down with him as he felt the pain force him to black out. 

“John!” Rose’s voice already sounded raw, and she pulled him so that he wasn’t laying on his wound.  “Look at me, please!”

“She’s mine!” Harry shrieked from his place on the floor.  “I need to kill her so she can be mine!” He cursed and writhed on the floor, trying to grab his gun again to shoot Rose. She was not even paying attention though, as she was focusing on John, trying to get him to resurface to consciousness.  

“John?  John!” She stroked her thumb over his cheekbone.  “Look at me, look at me, we’re going to get you help, you were shot, it’s alright.”

He opened his eyes, his lips parted as he panted heavily.  “You called me John,” he said softly.

Instead of being touched, she panicked.  “Sarah Jane, help me!” She screamed.  “Please!”   


Sarah Jane was at her side in a moment, calling 999 with one hand and applying pressure onto John’s wound with the other, trying to get the blood flow down.  “Yes, hello, Sarah Jane Smith here, send an ambulance right away, to the Tyler Mansion.  Yes. Thank you!” She hung up and looked at Rose, who was now fully sobbing over John.  

She could only hope that he would make it through this.


	16. Chapter 16

Rose went in the ambulance. She wasn't sure why she was allowed, but she had a feeling it had to do with Sarah Jane flashing her badge about at everyone. 

She watched numbly as Harry Saxon was carried, kicking and screaming, to the back of a police car. He was shouting about her, about how she was supposed to be his forever. The thought sent a chill down her spine. He may have gotten close, and that terrified her. 

What also terrified her, and what she found more immediate, was how ashen John was, lying in the ambulance. They'd taken his jacket and his tie to allow for more airflow and to apply pressure to the wound.  He looked so sick, laying on his stomach with people pressing down on his back. 

“Miss, please stay seated,” one of the EMTs had the audacity to tell her as she slipped down to put her face level with his. 

“John?” She whispered, running her fingers through his hair, which was sweaty and warm. “I'm here, John. I'm sorry.”

He moaned quietly but didn't open his eyes. He tried to shift towards her but she stopped him and instead took one of his hands in hers. 

“I'll be here the whole time,” she said, her voice strong with a conviction she felt all the way to her bones. “I  _ will  _ stay with you.”

She was, however, ripped from him when they got to the hospital, as he was taken away to see if they could get the bullets out.  That would determine his fate, she realized.  He hadn't spoken or come near her consciously and it made her heart clench. 

She tried to follow, but a male nurse stopped her. 

“Ma’am, you can't go back there.”

“No, see, I've got to,” Rose insisted, “It’s all my fault he was shot.  You have to let me back with him, what if he dies?”

She must have sounded nearly hysterical as the nurse’s eyes softened. “Please, go have a seat. Ma’am, is this young woman with you?” He called over her shoulder to Sarah Jane. 

“Yes, she's with me,” Sarah Jane took Rose about the shoulders.  “I'll keep her out, thank you.”

The nurse nodded and walked away, looking a little skittish, as though he thought Rose was going to follow him and demand he allow her back with John.  She fought Sarah Jane’s arms and the woman tightened her grip.

“Rose, you need to calm down,” She turned her and started pushing her towards the ladies’ room.  “You look an absolute sight, we’re going to clean off your face.”

Rose tried to fight back as Sarah Jane pushed her into the empty bathroom.  She sobbed again and her hands hit the counter, palms on either side of the sink.  Her shoulders shook with more cries, and Sarah Jane heaved a sigh before pulling her into a hug.  Rose gratefully returned the embrace, sobbing openly.  

After several minutes, Sarah Jane pulled back and turned her towards the sink. “We’re going to wash that face, now,” she said softly, tugging a few paper towels out of the dispenser.  “Your parents are going to bring you some comfortable clothes, they had a feeling that you were going to want to stay here.”

She nodded.  “I have to stay,” she said softly.

Sarah Jane pursed her lips, wetting the paper towels and pressing them to Rose’s cheeks, under her eyes, where mascara had formed black tear tracks.  “I take it you don’t hate each other anymore?” She asked.

“No,” Rose said meekly.  “I don’t hate him.  I want him to be okay.”

Her eyes were unfocused, glassy, and she nodded to herself.  “I wanna see him, now.”

“You can’t, Rose, come here,” Sarah Jane washed Rose’s face, as she had completely spaced out from any sort of conversation.  

Several minutes passed, until Sarah Jane took Rose by the hand and started to lead her out to the waiting room when Rose whispered, “I think I love him.”

Sarah Jane felt her heart drop and soar all at the same time.  She’d had a feeling this was the woman to quell the beast that had raged inside John for so long.  She smiled softly at Rose.  “I know,” she said.  

Jackie was quite shaken, and in her own dramatic way, almost acted like it was her that had been shot.  She gave Rose a pair of soft trousers, trainers and socks, and a t-shirt, lamenting that she would stay the night in the hospital.

“I’ve got to, mum,” She said. “To make sure he’s okay.  And even if he’s not, how could I leave him?”

Jackie realized what Rose had not told her about the relationship that she had with her bodyguard.  “I see, dear.  Just try to get some rest.”

“How’s Tony?” Rose blurted. “He must have been so scared.”

Sarah Jane drew her attention over to them when Jackie sat down next to Rose and ran a hand through her hair. “He’ll be sharing the bed with your father and I tonight, he’s a bit shaken up. I’m not sure how he managed to stay so quiet during the whole ordeal, if I’m honest with you.”

Rose bit her lip, feeling a little guilty.  “We were all afraid.  He was probably the most afraid of all of us.  He doesn’t understand it on a fundamental level like we do.”

“I think that could be right,” Sarah Jane cut in.  “If he needs to see someone about his experience, he can always come down to the station and talk to me, and we can talk him through it.”

“Thank you,” Jackie said, surprisingly touched.  “I think we’ll wait it out a few days, see what he does… We’ll keep him with us in our room until he stops being afraid.  Rose, are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah,” Rose said without thinking, furrowing her brows at herself. “Yeah, I think I’m gonna be okay.”

“Good.  I’ve got to get home to Pete and Tony, got to look after them.” Jackie kissed her daughter on the cheek and gave her a hug before departing.  Rose silently went to the restroom to change and came back out with her more formal clothes in hand.  

The clothes she had wanted to use to impress John.   
God, she was so stupid.  She shook herself and went back out to sit with Sarah Jane. 

And they waited. 

It wasn’t until two in the morning that the nurse who had told Rose to ‘get lost’ more or less, came out and called out, “Anyone for John Smith?”

Rose and Sarah Jane rocketed to their feet and the man lifted his hand.  “You can come with me,” he said, “But you have to keep it quiet, he’s not awake yet.”

“Is he okay?” Rose blurted out, “Is he going to make it?”

“Yes,” the nurse nodded.  “He’s going to be alright, though he’s going to have to take it easy and not use his right arm for awhile.  There’s a lot of nerve and tissue damage, but we were able to retrieve the bullets.”

Sarah Jane nodded and then flipped open her badge.  “Miss Tyler and I will stay here for the remainder of the night.”   
The nurse’s eyes widened. “Yes, ma’am, of course.”

The walk to John’s room felt as though it was a million years long.  Rose’s legs were shaking and she felt her heart pounding against her chest, trying to escape.  Finally, they reached the end of a hallway.  The nurse opened the last door on the left and Rose bolted inside the darkened room before anyone could tell her not to.

John was hooked up to an IV, still deathly pale, but his face face looked more at ease than it had the last time she had seen him. That was good enough for her.  

She sank down in the chair next to his bed and tentatively reached out for his hand, clasping it in both of hers.  He stirred a bit at the movement and she heard Sarah Jane come in behind her, and then sit on the other side of the bed.  

“I want him to wake up,” Rose whispered. 

“Get some rest,” Sarah Jane said, “He’ll be here when you wake up, he needs some sleep too.”

She nodded, and leaned her head down on the bed, pulling her chair up so she was closer to the bed. She looked up at him through her lashes, wanting to watch him, wanting him to be alright. 

She pressed a sleepy kiss to his knuckles before closing her eyes, the tip of her nose pressed against his hand and the top of her head almost resting on his thigh.  

Sarah Jane watched and smiled a little.  She had a feeling she might want to slip out before John woke up.  Once Rose was asleep, she leaned over and whispered to John’s sleeping body, “Don’t do anything stupid,” before leaving, closing the door quietly behind her.  

*******

Rose woke up to a hand running fingers through her hair, even as she grasped another hand.  It was still dark, and she knew that not much time had passed.  She pushed into the touch and hummed a little.  Her body started to swim up from the cloudy fog of sleep and she opened her eyes.  When the sight that met her eyes was John’s brown ones, she sat up and looked at him, pulling his hand from her hair in the process.  

“You’re awake,” she said softly.   
“Yeah,” He rasped, voice husky from disuse.  “You stayed.”

“Yeah.’   
He wrinkled his nose. “That couldn’t have been comfortable for you.”

“I’m fine,” she said, shifting in the chair.  She didn’t feel like she had a crick anywhere, though she had a suspicion that maybe she didn’t get the best sleep she could’ve gotten.  “I was worried about you.”

He smiled weakly at her. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

She looked around. “Where did Sarah Jane go?”

“She was here?”

“Yeah, when I went to sleep,” She blinked.  “I guess she left.”

He regarded her, seeming very thoughtful. “I think we have… A lot of things to discuss, Miss Tyler.”

She bit her lip. “Yeah, I think we do.”

He leaned back and closed his eyes.  “Lucky for you, I’m really too tired to talk about any of them.”  He tugged on her hands. “Come here.”

“I’m right here,” she replied, squeezing his hand.

He chuckled, the sight of a smile on his face warming her heart and making her so happy she could barely breathe.  “No, not what I meant.  Come up in the bed, you’ll sleep better here.  It’s still early.” He glanced over at the clock.  “Yeah, four in the morning.  Come here.”

“I think the nurse might yell at me if I do that,” she replied sheepishly.

“Sod the nurse,” John said sleepily. “I’m tired and I want you up here.  Just get on my good side.”

She came up to his right side and without thinking, reached out to cup his cheek. His eyes fluttered open again and he regarded her carefully.  “Am I?” She asked softly.  

“What?” He asked.

“On your good side.”

He smiled widely at her, though his eyes still looked very tired.  “I think it’s safe to say that you are, Miss Tyler.  Come on, get some rest.”

He lifted the thin hospital sheet as she toed off her trainers.  She glanced at him carefully.  “There’s not enough room for the two of us.”

“There is if you… If you cuddle up next to me.  On your side.”

She smiled at his shy words and crawled under with him, trying to be very careful.  He winced a little and she froze.  

“No, no, it’s fine, come here.” he reached for her with his good arm and she cuddled up into his side as he tugged the blankets around them.  

She pressed her nose into the underside of his jaw.  “Is this okay?  I’m not putting any pressure on your back, am I?”

“No, you’re on my other side, it’s fine,” He said, curling his arm around her waist and snuggling closer to her.  

She’d never seen him like this, so soft and careful.  He breathed out a little sigh, his breath ruffling her hair.  

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Why?” He asked sleepily as her hand rested on his chest, her knee moving over his.

“It’s my fault you got shot.”

He nuzzled her hair and curled his fingers into her shirt.  “I did it to protect you,” he said, “And that’s my job.  You should not be sorry for that.”

“I never thought, that through all of this, you would get hurt.  I thought it would just be me that would get hurt.”

“I’m glad it wasn’t you, Rose.”

She looked up into his face, dislodging his nose from her hair.  “You called me Rose.”

He blinked.  “Yeah.  Is that okay?”

She felt tears brim in her eyes, and she cuddled back into his chest. “Yeah.”

“Oh, blimey, are you crying?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, God, don’t cry.”

“Make me stop, Dr. Smith.”

“Oh  _ God,  _ don’t do that,” he laughed softly and kissed the crown of her head.  “Go to sleep.”

With his arms around her, she fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter!!!!! Thanks for all the love, guys <3 
> 
> My next Au will be up soon!

 

Rose was told to drive John home once he was released from the hospital, which she agreed to readily.  He was still a bit tender, but moved well, and rolled his eyes at Rose every time she slowed down to help him.  

“I’ll just drive you back to your flat,” she said, feeling a little awkward, now that he was up and about and they weren’t cuddling in his hospital bed anymore (Which they had done a lot of, even if there was nothing else happening) she felt like she wasn’t ready to actually talk to him.  

“I want you to stay,” he said softly.  

She looked at him as she took his keys in her hand.  “Are you sure?” She asked.

He nodded.  “We’ll order takeaway and… Rose, I think we need to have a bit of a talk.”

“Hm,” she said, her voice strained.  “Yeah, sure I’ll stay with you.”   


His shoulder was still a bit tender, so he was using his left arm to open the car door.  She let him in and shut the door after him before crossing all the way to the other side of the door. 

The drive home was quiet, as neither of them could think of something to say.  One glance at John told her that he was thinking of a million things at once, and just couldn’t bring himself to say any one of them.  

She couldn’t help but feel a little skittish as she helped him upstairs to his flat.  She pushed the door shut behind them and locked it as he walked towards the living room and sat down on his couch.  He watched her expectantly and waved her over.  

It was hard to resist him, so after swaying forward and then trying to stop herself, she went to his side, and settled down at his side, her back stiff.  

He laced his fingers together in his lap, like he was trying not to reach out and touch her.  “You stayed with me every day I was in the hospital,” he said softly.  “I’m trying not to jump to conclusions.”

“John, if you’ll remember, I was the one that jumped you, initially,” she replied, smiling a little.  

He chuckled under his breath and nodded.  “Yeah, I suppose you were.”

She wanted to touch him, but she wasn’t sure if that was allowed yet.  Or, if that would ever be allowed.  She wanted it to be.  She scooted closer to him. 

“I could’ve lost you,” she said.

He grinned, “I didn't think you would’ve minded losing me,” he admitted. 

She raised her eyebrows at him. “I don’t think… John, I always would’ve been sorry, if I had lost you, but now-”

“But we fought, all the time, we  _ currently  _ fight all the time.  You’re not… Sickened by that?”

“No,” She whispered.  “I think we were using it to hide ourselves from a sort of… Attraction.”

He reached out and cupped her cheek.  “Yes,” he said lowly.  He opened his mouth to speak again but then leaned forward to kiss her, cutting himself off.  She gasped a little, not expecting his touch at all, and shoved her hands into his hair just to touch him back.  He leaned forward, pushing her back on his couch until her head rested on the arm of the seat.  She pulled away from him, gasping.

“But I thought,” she stammered out.  “I thought because I was an heiress-”

His good hand balanced himself over her as he shook his head. “No, Rose.  That’s not what I meant. Not because you’re an heiress, not because you’re my boss.  But because you’re too good for me.  You’re way too good for me, I don’t deserve someone like you.”

She cupped his cheeks in her hands, “Is that why you insulted me at every opportunity? To keep me away from you?”

He nodded mournfully.  “And I don’t want to do it anymore.  Can I kiss you again, please?”   


She grinned and nodded.  He let himself smile back at her before ducking down to kiss her again.  She was a bit more involved this time, getting closer to him, until he winced in pain and pulled back.     
“I’m sorry,” He breathed, “My shoulder hurts.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Sit back,” She demanded.

“What?  No, I want-”

She pushed him up, gently, until he was sitting up again, and she straddled his lap, taking all the weight off of his arm.

“You have to heal,” she said, kissing his cheek.

He sighed and his eyes fluttered shut as he reached up to touch her waist. “I think I already am,” he said, so quietly it was almost to himself.

She smiled down at him, realizing what his words meant.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her nose into his jawbone.  “I told Sarah Jane I think I might be in love with you,” she said softly.

“Mm,” he replied, lips brushing her hair.  

“I can take the ‘might’ out now,” she pulled back and looked him in the face.  “I love you.”

He beamed at her, his eyes sparkling.  “Rose Tyler,” he said in awe, “I love you.”

She let out a cry of surprise and kissed him again, allowing herself to deepen it almost immediately.  He was tired though, exhausted from everything that had happened, and he pulled back, pressing his forehead to hers to maintain contact.  She ran her thumbs over his jawline in what she hoped was a soothing motion, but she wasn’t really sure.  He was quiet for a few moments, basking in something she couldn’t begin to understand.

“Are you alright?” She whispered.

“Yeah,” he said softly.

“We should get something to eat.”

“Just… Stay here?  For a minute?”

She nodded and rolled off his lap to cuddle into his injured side. He held her close, wanting to be close to her.  She understood the feeling completely.

Later, she managed to get him to let her move so she could order them something to eat. She was too tired to cook something and didn’t feel like being away from him for that long.

They ate quietly, trading words as the telly droned on the background, and it was only when the sky began to grow dark that Rose realized she had overstayed her welcome.  

“I should go,” she said, though the thought of being alone in her flat unnerved her.  “It’s late.”   
He took her hand, stopping her from moving from the couch. “Stay.”

She bit her lip. “I didn’t bring my glasses, there’s some practicalities involved here.”

He smiled at her.  “I think you’ve forgotten that all your things are still here.”

That’s right, she  _ had  _ forgotten.  It seemed like a lifetime ago.  She’d been staying at his bedside, wetting her contacts with solution and probably killing her eyes in the process, her mother or Sarah Jane bringing her things she could use.

It was a bit obsessive, she supposed, the way she wouldn’t leave his side.

“You really want me to stay?” She asked.

He nodded. “I’d prefer it, if you want to. I would never make you.”   


She shook her head. “You wouldn’t be making me, not at all, I just thought…”

“You thought what?”

“I dunno, I was with you in the hospital all that time,” She shrugged, “You can’t possibly still want to be around me.”

He smiled weakly at her. “If that’s what you think, I think we need to get to know each other a little better, don’t you?”

She grinned.  “Might be in our best interest, Mr. Smith.”

“It’s John,” he said, even though she was only teasing.  “ _ Please  _ call me John.”

Rose felt a bit disoriented, but she changed for bed and put her glasses on.  She pulled her hair into a bun as she walked out of the bathroom.

He sat on the couch, staring into space.  She laid her hand on his good shoulder, and he looked up at her, his eyes focusing in immediately when he saw her.  

“You’re not supposed to shower, are you?”  She asked him.

He shook his head.  “No, only sponge baths.”

“Do you need help?”   


It was an innocent request, but to her surprise, he blushed.  “No,” he said, “I’m actually a bit too tired to do anything but change.”

“Can you do that?” She asked. “I don’t want you to mess up your back.”

“I won’t, the stitches are fine, I just have to be careful.  I’ll meet you in the… In the bedroom.”

He seemed so shy now, and she couldn’t figure out why.  She sat down next to him and leaned her head down onto his shoulder.  “Are you alright?” She asked.

“Yeah,” he tilted to kiss her temple.  “Come on, now, up you get, I’ll be right there.”   


She ran her hand through his hair, thrilling in the fact that she was allowed to do that not, before leaving him to go back to his room.  All her things were still there, in her bags, where she had put them, the black sheet over the window.  She sighed a little and got onto her side of the bed, sitting up, not wanting to fall asleep before he got there.

It was about ten minutes before he opened the door to his room and entered in striped jim jams and he shut it behind them, despite there being no real threat and the fact that they were alone in the flat.  

He lay down slowly on his back, breathing out a sigh.  She slid down onto her back and watched him.  “Did they give you pain medication?” she asked, “I didn't even think to ask-”

“Yeah, I took it.  It just hasn’t kicked in yet,” he said.  He opened his eyes and extended his hand to her.  “Come here.”

She rolled over into his arms, being careful of his injuries.  He pressed a kiss to her forehead and hummed happily in the back of his throat.  He pulled her glasses off her face and set them on the bedside table.  “Goodnight,” he whispered.

She lifted a hand and stroked his cheek gently, looking up into his tired eyes.  “It’s been… Um… Quite an ordeal, hasn’t it?” She asked, laughing a little.

He had to smile, in spite of it all.  “Yeah,” he said, “But I wouldn’t change anything. I really wouldn’t.”

She nodded, understanding completely.  “I wouldn’t either.” She said.  

She kissed him and felt him sigh against her lips, his fingers curling into her sleep shirt.  It was clear that he was tired, but he also clearly wanted to go on kissing her, so he did.  She smiled and wrapped her arm around his neck, opening her mouth over his.  

He pressed closer to her and kissed along down her neck, sucking a bruise into the skin there.  She slapped the back of his head.

“Git,” she whispered.

“Yours,” he said, giving the angry red mark an apologetic lick.

She raised her eyebrows at him.  “I think you just marked me as  _ yours,  _ though,” She pointed out, poking him in the chest.  He grinned at her, undisguised male pride that made her roll her eyes.  

“Thank you,” he said seriously after a moment, after he had leaned forward and kissed her again.

“For what?” She asked, trying to roll him over and failing, but still continuing to try and kiss him. 

He laughed and jostled her hip. “Stop for just a minute.”

She couldn’t resist pouting at him a little and rolled back, keeping her arm wrapped around him, the other one pinned between them. “What are you thanking me for?” She asked softly.

“I don’t know what  _ not  _ to thank you for.”  John admitted. “You didn’t let me walk on you.  You pushed me.  That’s… You’re unlike no woman I’ve ever known, and I love every bit of talking to you.  Even when we were fighting, I was never really angry.  But I need you to know something."

She arched an eyebrow at him. ‘What?” She asked.

“I’m not good at this whole boyfriend thing,” he said quietly, “I forget anniversaries, and I always mess up. I’ll say things you take as insults when I don’t mean them that way.  And I haven’t had a girlfriend for a very long time.”

“Are you my boyfriend now?”

He groaned and rolled onto his back. “Okay, see, I just messed up. I didn’t even ask you to be my girlfriend, I just assumed it because you said you loved me.”   
She leaned her elbow on the bed, her chin in her hand. “Well, yeah,” she said.  “I love you and I want to be your girlfriend.”

He closed his eyes and breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”

“Doesn’t sound right though,” she said softly. “Not for us.”

He wrinkled his nose, seeming to agree. “I think you’re right. It’s too-”

“Juvenile.”

“I was going to say simplistic, but yeah, that works too.”

She closed her eyes, thinking a bit.  She felt him staring at her, waiting for words she wasn’t sure how to give.  She hummed a little in the back of her throat.  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “There’s loads of things that you could call me.  Partner, significant other.”

“Better half,” he whispered softly, reaching over to cup her cheek and stroke her skin.  Her eyes fluttered open and she grinned at him.

“Yeah,” She beamed at him.  “Better half.”  And she put her hand on his chest so that he knew exactly what she meant.

Carefully, so as not to jostle his healing injuries, she cuddled up next to him, her head pillowed on his chest, their fingers laced together and settled on his stomach.

“I’m sorry I almost ruined everything,” he said, “And I can’t promise that I won’t continue to be a sod, but I hope that you stay.”   


“M’staying,” she said softly.  “Always gonna stay.”

“Might get bored,” He said.

“Nah,” she promised, squeezing his hand.  “Can’t… Can’t think of a reason to be bored.  Got you, that’s all I need.”

He smiled into the darkness, one arm around her waist, feeling more complete than he had since his parents died. She wasn’t a substitute, not by any means.  She was Rose, not Rose Tyler, the Vitex heiress, or Rose Tyler, the news anchor -- who had missed many of her shows just to sit at his bedside -- she was Rose.

They attended parties together, and he always introduced her the same way.

_ “Ah yes, this is Rose Tyler, my better half.” _   
And she would smile at him, knowing that he was hers.

**Author's Note:**

> Please review?


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